Freedom

I’m worried about my incessant fight to out flames, flames that are in most cases very useless. I’m stressed out over the expectation of development by others. About the times I have to prove am right and why my choices are meaningful. About not being as loving or caring. About being different, wanting different. About being locked down.

I’m not free with myself, my dreams or my views. I’m mostly complying to wishes, demands, suggestions and the complacency of others. I’m not my own being. I seek redemption in my words. I’m lost in my worry, very many miles to the left of democracy. I travel along a road covered in fire and dirt, the dust rising from being trodden underneath. I’m the ground in a bull ring, the heavy and sharp hoofs of others breaking my skin and grinding my fine elements to vapour. I’m melting in my own heat. I’m not free, I’m not me. I am whomever wants to be replicated.

There are times I’ve spent too long asking myself questions whose answers were right at the back of my head. Other times I marvelled at the beauty of uncertainty which sometimes worried me of getting too comfortable. For a long time I have sought the revelation of things that were not even secrets and the same time hidden that which couldn’t stay underneath without shining. I have swam against the tide and sometimes I have gotten lost in the direction of the wind. Life has become this maze that I can’t get through to reach the other side. The comforting thing however is the fact that it is not about the triumph but about the fight. It’s not about getting through the maze but having to experience it in the first place. It’s not about solving the puzzle, it’s about trying. Trying hard enough for fate to quit tempting me and dropping everything into place like it was meant to be.

Being free means in every sense of the word. Emotionally, financially, and socially free in that order. Especially emotionally. Being able to feel and act upon anything with no implications. By implications I mean regret and shit. Being able to do what I want, with very minimal or no collateral damage. Being free enough to either get lost in my head or the world.

Maybe I don’t need to out them (the flames) by myself. Maybe I should even let them burn, flames are not entirely harmful. Worrying about expectations of others is not entirely bad either. It’s generous, I shouldn’t kill myself trying. Do what I can and leave the rest. Carrying the world is overrated. My actions will always prove if I’m right or wrong. Either way, people will always think what they choose. Being different makes us unfit for society, which is a good thing, and you can only be locked down if you allow it.

We don’t bake by oil, rather by heat. We do not fry with water, but with oil. Every situation is a consequence of its product, it creates itself. We can only rise from our insecurities once we realize we are beings of habit. We are malleable and brittle, hardened only by bonds with each other. We find comfort in peace and the chaos of life unite to warm us up. We rise from the ashes of our flames like yeast causes the dough to rise.

Our worries are not our problems, our freedom is not our foundation. Freedom is in uniting, in bonding and in being confident. Confident to be yourself. You can only be yourself if you keep trying. Be true. Just try!