Freedom

Each day we wake up, put on our masks and step out on to the world. We silently bear our tormenting thoughts, we smile at people we would much rather punch and we wave by to people we would much rather confess our feelings to. We turn to being vague and abstract when all we want to do is be raw, be free, be us. The need for appearances, the belief that the world is incapable of good, the forgotten concept of trust, credence and faith digs deep. We would much rather hope for outcomes than discuss them, we let our insecurities hold us back. We pretend all is normal when we would much rather implode, we walk by our daily strides when we would much rather scream and shout out aloud, we judge appearances and give ourselves no chance to explore the index. We live by the standards of righteousness set out by our society, when the ethos that build the very foundation of this society, are crumbling.

We go about our routines in a manner of speaking that is not much unlike the processes set by in a manufacturing unit. We hide behind locked doors to post anonymously on blogs that can't be publicly found and read. We write lengthy messages to express our feeling only to not press the send button. We are so consumed with definitions and boundaries and expectations that we do not ever remember what it is like to bloom and shine. And reach out just a little higher. After all, the tallest tree in the forest always spreads its branches a little wider, gets a little more sunshine, and sways more freely.

Freedom is such a cunning word. It gives hope when there is none, it inspires faith and grows a false sense of belief when it would much rather have us suppress our thoughts behind bolted doors, so that we can be molded to the levels of appropriation of society.