prolouge

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 September 13, 2013

    

  My whole life is a trap.

        My body was the first trap. Then my parent, then everone I knew. Then it was everting I knew, everyting I did. they were snares scattered throughout my life. they served to cage me, to shackle me, to build high in which I would be trapped all thirty year of my life.

    Now I'm here. In a trap visible to eye, hemmed in by actual wall. Caged, held hostage, imprisoned, for who know how long.

    Maybe I'll be able to hold out, waiting until the day of my release-even though it won't be true freedom. Because when that day come, I'll be trown right back into another trap.

    Or maybe I'll just end it all, get as far away as possible. Escape from my bodyand rise above these walls surronding me, leaving my life behind.

    I don't know yet if tomorrow morning I continue this story, that means I'm still here, that i've chosen to remain trapped in my own life, caged, and held captive; that I"ve chosen not to be free, because in truth I'm too scared for that freedom. i"ve long beeb accustomed to being a Captive, lamenting my shackles.

     But if my story doesn't continue tomorrow, then rejoice with me! I will be free, for I will have no more fear. I will no longer submit or cave in because of fear. Is that not true freedom?


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