freedom - it costs nothing because it's worth nothing. it doesn't exist, cannot exist, because in a word it escapes the cage that has no bars, no windows and no doors. it's a relativist construct, a catch-all that protects us from everything we don't like: but it does have a caveat - it cages us in all the things we do. those things that the others don't want us to do.
wanting to give others freedom, trying to force them to buy in, is the desire to produce the ultimate torture; the pain of a broken world-view and its exquisitely uncomfortable counterpart, the uncertainty of choice.
what is free? where lies responsibility? who possesses the keys to the cage, and in which way do they turn? why do we need to be free when we can have whatever experience we want just by imagining it? and have its pleasure amplified by our knowledge of its forbidden nature?
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the sun shines brightly cutting through the haze into tight corners of the post-atomic daze the concrete alley floor, with its broken flow...
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for fourteen years i wished my father dead at the age of eighteen i buried him it would take another six years to be rid of his physica...
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