form-of-rebellion

[form-of-rebellion]

Freedom’s beloved Child

The most common question I ask myself isn’t “what comes after death?” but “what does freedom mean to me.”

I always thought that if I had choices – even something as simple as what to eat for breakfast – then I was free.

Later, I thought that money could make me free. I still partially agree with that, but I’d be a hypocrite if I called something that is the main reason for our enslavement freedom.

Over time, I started demanding more and more from freedom, until I finally realized that I would never truly be free.

That realization was like discovering a rotting body hidden behind a wall that no one wanted to clean up. And with each passing day, the stench grew heavier.

I began to escape into my thoughts. I realized the whole world was against me—not just people or nature, but even my own body. The anger I feel, I express with every breath, but that anger is my strength, my tool on the path toward my goal.

Because if I cannot be truly free, then I will do everything I can to become the most beloved child of that cruel father we call freedom.

[form-of-rebellion]

My fav cowfemboy :p

[form-of-rebellion]

'cause you're the bomb

[form-of-rebellion]

I’m still afraid to draw second eye…

[form-of-rebellion]

Live laugh love hange