Am outside, I should feel free, right?
I'm not at school or work, I'm just here, sitting outside, the weather is calm and comforting.
Strangely I don’t, on the contrary, I feel trapped.
It’s like being in a glass cell, I can see, I can feel, but really am I free?
It’s not even crowded here; of course there are people, but not as much as early in the morning on the way to work, not as much as in the market on a sunny day, not as much as on a beach a summer evening.
But I feel trapped, I can feel chains around myself, I have to smile, have to be kind.
I have to be everything but myself, I want to run home and I can’t.
It’s just for a short time; I tell myself, take a breath and be patient.
I want to scream, run, dance, sing – I even want to slap some of them.
I am outside, sun kissing my skin, wind brushing my hair, and I feel captive.
How could that be? Why do I feel like this?
I look on the side, a child scolded by their mother, and suddenly I understand.
Do I really know what freedom is? Did I ever taste it for real?
I’m trapped by their expectations, trapped by what they call society, but it’s surely more complicated than that right?
I’m not free, not really.
But am I really captive after all?