Journey

 

How young were we when we learned how to construct cages from within, and bind ourselves to our lessons, and teach ourselves to forget how to unlock the locks we built? How difficult it must have been to wipe out our childlike fascination with the world, the courage that came with it, and the lack of a need to justify everything with rationale? Yet, it was easy.

What is the obsession the world has with goals and companionship? What is this problem we seem to all find ourselves creating when we tell each other it is NOT okay to be completely free. Free of direction, free of the pressures of companionship, free from the oppressive minds and self-criticism we enforce on ourselves.

It is easy to tell a kid to grow up. It is easy to tell a kid that, yes dreams are great, but so are safe back up plans. And we aren’t wrong to do so. We have seen where bad decisions take us, where things don’t have a plan and the dream is shattered by harsh reality, instead of preventing voices chiding from early on, the cold, hard pavement sets in as you lay to take your rest for the night.

Life is fucking hard, like that pavement. And as we try to fall asleep we remember we had a home once, and someone told us never to be afraid to dream.

And our cynicism wins. Look where dreaming got us? Look where dreaming of ANYTHING good for something besides ourselves get us? It is all too far fetched to dream that you get what you work for. Where if you work hard enough, or try hard enough, you can keep that dream alive? And real?

Look around us. Is that dream real?

Is the journey we vowed to take, constrained by the pillars put in place by ideologies promising far more milk and honey than cows and bees that they had, worth it?

Was it worth going against our instinct and perhaps leaving the world’s mechanics to those who claim to know better? We are stripped of our confidence, of our opinions, of our simple rationale and replaced with sheep skin.

We daren’t challenge for fear that we do not know enough, and that is exactly how they like to keep us. Distractions are all too easy these days, and we fall into a pit of self-comforting ignorance, denying ourselves the need to ever change things when we are unsatisfied for that is the way the world works. This journey of ours found a mirage in a desert, manufactured all too perfectly that we sit and remain, spending the rest of our lives fooled by that which takes and consumes us.

We do indeed feed it, when we consume it. The idea, that is. We enrich it with our own choices, and we force it to seem as if it needs us to survive. When all it does is take, and indirectly send us to our graves, where we willingly lie in defeat and walk ourselves to the tune of ‘we’re all going to die anyway’.

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