There was an era of recent in which I felt lost. This time may be articulated by sadness’ soliloquy of song, though I shalt not express this sentiment for long. For on the soul it weighs, in sanity’s dollars it’s paid, thy memories’ slideshow deals in spades whilst the heart obeys at the beckoning of truth’s painful days. And therein lies our melody; the tune of the universal therapy blessing us ever verily with ecstasy’s plentifully pleasant pleasantry. I swallow the boulder in my throat, cotton gloves attempting to dam my eyes’ moat; fingers interlaced and hands fused, my beckoning shares the name of what a predator pursues.
I ask “could this happen to me? I want to be free, I want to be free.”
And you drift from suppression’s grasp like an errant kite, nothing is more gorgeous than God’s voice on a winter’s night. So infinite love of the universe, pour on down; buckets of rain, buckets of pain, those buckets from which we may only gain. Ushered in is the new life, where jubilee may no longer be coy; happiness is not a lack of sorrow but the presence of joy. And we are thus reborn, our lives in tune with the soul’s breath, it commands sovereignty’s death; promotes concession to introspection resurrection where you’re freed by the need for self-reliance for only truth shall I bleed.
I scream out “shall this happen to me? I will be free, I will be free.”
The heart swelled so giant it threatened to rip in two as I lamented and celebrated over how much I love all of you. I extrapolated upon the portentous questions as I filter through the trite insipid suggestions in hopes for a logical and sound progression. We always arrive back to sentiment so forgiving, and in being blessed with the eternal good’s thanksgiving, an angelic voice inside instructs that “life is for living”. And bestowed have been I with a new melody to shout, a new song to sing. Seizing the day is such a powerful thing. I drive in the car and I cry in joy; life is grand, life is beautiful, forever shall live the heart of a boy.
“Won’t this happen to me? I shall be free, I shall be free.”
And for some weeks I went for a ponderous swim in the rivers of my head, one of doubt and questioning all things said. Weakly did I bask in the light of the neurological riverbed, only then the book of my soul willed to be read. I tire of the asphyxiation of the soul, of this smothering song I sing; I now know teleology is a very real thing. Sacrificing happiness for comfort is crippling, it’s debilitating and disabling; frivolous is status quo if it’s everything you are that you must forgo. But I will be freed. Slavery is the catalyst to succeed. I will be freed. Happiness is my only need.
“This truly is happening to me. I will be free, I will be free.”
I have learned so much. Never should love and laughter be called a crutch. There is a path to which each of us belong, a place we’ve needed all along. Do not let the world tell you right from wrong, too easily can sullen lives live prolonged. Conformity’s story is over, turn the page, you’re a conditioned bird but in an opened cage. Society will suck you dry, vampiric souls till you die. Society’s pestering will be incessant, but you are the enlightened peasant. Society will never let you off the hook, but you can throw away this world’s little instruction book. So put me in your chains, world, try to tell me what I will be. Look me in the eye, world, and tell me what you see:
it truly has happened to me. I am free. I am free.
Tony Blau Veldt, 12/28/2013 completed