Thursday, September 26, 2013

The void of expression and the paradox of "freedom"

I'd be able to say what the fuck I felt, but then I'd be "free"...
and judged, and ridiculed and the source of confusion and disappointment.  I'd still be "free", but not by the original definition; I'd probably be "free" on my own terms... which sounds like a truer freedom, a purified one.

That's the beauty of vague ambiguous ideals.  Define them how you like, and apply them wherever is preferable, making sure to avoid particular and crucial aspects of one's life and character lest the cognitive dissonance rips out your soul and life becomes too unbearable to move.  That's why the word "free" is used so often.  That's why the battle for a healthy mind is reminiscent of the pastor's battle for a healthy congregation.  And that's why my mind frames it's despair in those very terms.  I can shed the beliefs, but I can't shed the paradigm of a spiritually exploited childhood... but I shouldn't say that: the guilt they (the church) infused my brain with will turn my day into a painful rumination, and I'm not sure how much longer I can catatonically sit and worry before my body convulses with idle pain.  Literal muscle cramps.

"Freedom": we can all apply it to ourselves in some way or another: we may as well be astrologists.  Nonetheless, fuck a definition, we all wanna be "free".  Me?
I wanna be free of chewing the cud.
But this goddamn brain chemistry, a product of both nature and nurture, research of biology and doctrines of hell, will never allow it regardless of how still I can sit all morning, or how many barrels of tears I can fill in an hour.

Still, I tirelessly try and suicidally fail, all the while knowing I am reaching for nothing significant.  Bound by the chains and cliches of a protestant society and a god-forsaken mind, I sit here expressing myself with the very words that originally enslaved me, only to realize I have said nothing and expressed even less... but paradoxically, that's why I'm talking about "freedom" in the first place: for I am not "free" to scream about all that ails me, I am not "free" to enjoy sitting on this chair, I am not "free" to act how I please, I am not "free" to dismantle my flawed ways of cognition nor am I free to sip this coffee without a strict thought pattern.

I will never be "free",
unless I just change the definition of "freedom",
and create some obscure meaning,
but that's too equivocal,
I'll just shut-up and chew the cud.

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