freedom

i know why the caged bird sings...

Observing my surroundings I begin to understand the root of insanity. It is that driving, piercing thought that eats away at the layers of your flesh until it finally reaches your brain and devours tissue, and neurons, and all valuable things. Many are prisoners in their world, but how many are prisoners in their own body?

Imagine the teenager. Rebellious in nature and disobedient by choice. In his awkward confusion he fights against tradition even though that is where his safety lies. He listens intently to the voices surrounding him. Harmless to most, but to a fragile mind, they are the devil's handiwork. As the idea of complete privacy compels this young person, he begins to feel crowded by the once normal home environment. Nothing is enough. Even a kind gesture seems tortuous and his gentleness leaves almost as quickly as his rationale. What was once secure is now a trap; it keeps him from the excitement of new things. Still afraid, the teen ventures out into the open, trying to find a new sense of comfort. When he finds none, he returns with a memory of his life outside of safety. And in an almost grown-up way, he reflects on his adventures and simply states that he has no regrets.