"True Freedom"


A prison. What exactly is it? A large institution with barred doors, cement walls, floors and guards all over the place? Some would agree. But then, there are a select few who might disagree. i, for one, agree and disagree at the same time.
That is where I am; a prison. That is what I am; a prisoner. Yet there are no guards, no cement walls and floors and no barred doors and windows. my prison is different that any other for I am a prisoner in my own home. I have freedom, yet it is but an illusion for my mind.
Around me, television, vcr... yet I am still a prisoner.
You ask, how can this be? He has so many things, so much freedom. How can this be?
Freedom... freedom to what? Sit alone in this solitary castle awaiting my brother to return with my only way out of here? Even that is rusted and old. Solitary confinement indeed.
My prison shackles are heavey and never stop pulling me down. Money and comitment bind my left hand and my other binded by my brother's orders and my job.
Do you still think I have freedom?
Homework and school bind my legs down so hard that I can barely stand, let alone walk. Freedom is a lusted after luxury that I do not possess. And, admittingly, I too lust after it. Freedom. True freedom. Free of chaos and hazards... complication and orders and all problems in general... True freedom.