My Freedom
I have a wish, a wish to stay forever. This wish however was shattered by the sufferings and pain brought by my addiction. My addiction of freedom restricts all order, habits, norms a normal person would encounter. Walking now became an arduous task. The blurred vison blinded my sight, a sense I had taken for granted my entire life till now. To stop myself from spiraling down the road of self-despair, I created a safety circle like those in cartoons in the past to mark my territory and provide a safety barrier against the world. My vision became all but a light painting. I can’t trust anyone, it’s all a façade. It’s all but a big joke heaven is playing on me. Why oh why. I cannot understand. Why me? I was a victim of my own insecurities. My addiction, this drug poisons my world. The lights seem to be calling out to me. Minny! Minny! I turned into a prisoner of freedom.
The weight that weighed me down finally dissipated, I begun to see the light. Pun intended. I began to appreciate these lights. I walked towards them regardless of anyone, anything as my safety circle protected me from harm. Gradually I realized I was the paintbrush to this painting, I owned this painting. I opened my ears to pick up every sound, my body to every movement and paved my way through my surroundings. It came to a point where every sound and vibration was amplified. Gusts of wind, leaves rustling, people echoing, every minute sound and vibration shook my world.
I gasped to the realization that I was like a volatile atom in an exponential space. Grounded to the floor as my safe heaven, I moved around without any algorithm. This is freedom. This is my life now. I also react to light. The light I fascinate, the shadows I obviate. Dawning upon this discovery, my existence does not seem like an anomaly. Plants alike, they are obsessed with the light. Thirsty for every ounce of light, they creep through every nook and crevice. Unlike me, I make my way through regardless of any obstruction. People, judgements, any obstacles do not clout me in anyway. I am the queen. Nobody can disrupt my motion.
I am the erratic obstruction.
I am the contemplation.
I am the thorn in the flesh.
Alas, exhausted, I started seeing shadows and fading echoes of help. A white bright light rumored to be the light to another dimension blinded my eyes. Freedom, I mouthed.
Ha. It’s not the end.
Bang!
I fell flat to the ground.
I assumed I was teleported to another dimension. Large masses of objects kept rolling past me, some crushing me to the ground. It’s a relief they seem plastic, just really huge plastic balls, towering over me. I was no longer that almighty. I was a victim of circumstances. I do not wish to be here. My ground constantly shifts, shaking my world. I was constantly in ninja mode, avoiding the ‘giant plastic balls’, travelling sideways and leaping over them as if doing parkour. Finding gaps to pass through and being transported to yet another similar space. It’s not as if I have perfect eyesight, my sight was still in that state of jeopardy. Maneuvering through this space seemed to be a routine as if it was never ending. I felt I had been travelling in circles. The width of the space was twice of me and the height thrice, inducing claustrophobia.
Echo I shouted.
E c h o
E c h o
E c h o
E c h o
E c h o
E c h o o
It never returned.
I knew it. This dimension existed as a never ending circular structure.
How am I going to get out of this space, I questioned. I’m positive if I were to stay here any longer, I would become delirious. Every second felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours. Time appeared to have compounded in this dimension. I cannot pick myself up like before. I was spiraling into self-despair.
Then, everything came to a halt. No more ‘giant plastic balls’ seeking to crush me, the ground became still. Time stopped or at least appeared to stop. Is this a sign of hope? Or is there another teleportation that is about to manifest? As the frequency of these questions came into view I questioned myself again. Is this freedom I seek? If not, what is freedom?
