Freedom has always been nothing more than a simple word, a concept, an overrated ideal used to express the independence of a bunch of insignificant creatures called humans, or plainly said, us. Opportunity and ability for one to do as they wish with their life and any other possession of theirs is what it has stood for since the beginning of time till today, and will probably remain the same way in the following centuries. It is supposed to resemble the sky, as boundless as it is, but isn’t the sky unreachable too?
As mentioned, freedom is infinite, endless, but why are the rights, of which it consists of, presented as inviolable and untouchable, written and stated in books? Trapping them between sheets of paper isn’t a way to remind us of the importance of them, but rather, to remind us of the restrictions, of the bounds that were created the moment that ink touched paper and stained it with different symbols from different empires that in the end meant all the same thing.
What’s truly left infinite and untouched, but will scare you the moment it leaves one’s lips is chaos, or better known as anarchy. As simple as that. Chaos stands for doing whatever one desires of, detaching you from the outcome of violating the so called morals, ideals and the law. It’s the moment you break free from the shackles that keep you a hostage of this society’s code and embrace your animus, your instincts, the animal that has been waiting to be unleashed.
Chaos was never beautiful; intriguing perhaps, but not beautiful. It may have seemed that way to the outsiders, but not to the insiders, for it only leads to destruction. But chaos is what stands in the core of the human being and denying it is denying yourself. So, they created the illusion of chaos and gave it a friendlier name, along with a bunch of restrictions, the infamous freedom.
What we call freedom, is nothing more than a lie, a stupid, pointless try to make people think that everything they do is within their will, their independent choice, ignoring the fact that their options were numbered. The manufactured product we are presented to and served, is just an illusion, a placebo, a sweet, little pill full of lies to make the masses think they are content. Content to be under society’s control.
If freedom truly existed, we would at least get a taste of it for at least once in our lifetime, but even the day we die, we aren’t truly free, for our body is trapped inside a wooden cage, our existence inside the memories of those whom we have encountered, and our soul? Trapped between the tangles of the attachments that it held dear during the time we lived.
We were never free and no, we will never ever be.