Freedom
So, after a long time trying to find a place in
this world (which haven’t go that well) here I am, back to the one thing I wasn’t
that bad at: writing. I’m not a fan of
personal blogs talking about me, but I need to write and I need to be good at
it, to that I gotta write every day, so today it’s about me. I hope it won’t be that bad, I mean, Anne
Frank used to write about herself and that seemed to work well. Did I just make a joke about Anne Frank? I
guess I’m not allowed to do it, I’m not that famous. I don’t know who you are, or how did you even
get here, which is great, we can both be sincere now.
And what could these lines be about, about
getting drunk, about cars, about dogs? About the city, about papers, about
pasta? Maybe I could just tell a story.
What could it be today. I could
talk about life and the way it changes and how funny it is for me the way we
try to make things following some certain order, the way we go around trying so
hard to make some sense living in a whole universe who just doesn’t. Could I talk about freedom? How do you
achieve freedom? Does this concept come only from the way we ourselves invented
seclusion? Are you free? I feel free whenever I hold a pencil and start to draw
whatever is on my mind, I feel free whenever I’m writing something, but, I
guess that’s when I feel truly free. But
am I free out of that? Guess that’s one thing I’m trying to decipher every day.
It comes back to me the question: “What if the
cage is so big that you can’t actually see you are inside of it?” I say, what if there’s not any cage, what if
the bones of your skull can be the cage.
I have seen myself being a little less free into the bottom of some
bottles, what does that mean? Sometimes I’m more of a slave, sometimes I’m more
of a kid. Sometimes, I use my mind as
the door, the one to get away. Does that
make me free? Does that make a coward of me? I guess I’ll have to find that out
too. Anyway, I don’t pretend to be
followed, to be an “influencer” or any of that shit.
I just have some stupid things
to say and for better or worse internet lets me do it. I believe that maybe something can come out
of this, maybe some answers maybe some lies or maybe I’ll just learn to
write. One thing I can say it’s… I
really don’t know.
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