"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I'm a free human being with an independent will." -
"Freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes." -
"The only real prison is fear, and the only real freedom is freedom from fear." -
Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves; and under the rule of a just God, cannot long retain it. Freedom lies in being bold. People demand freedom of speech as a compensation for the freedom of thought which they seldom use. They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.
But the on going pursuit of freedom is a long, harsh, livid dream. It's something all human beings wish to obtain, to feel unshackled, unbind, and feel truly like they've earned there right to be 'Free'. And yet, in modern day society you can see it on all of our faces, 'prisoners' all around us. Each carrying a weight of obligation, responsibility, and more or less feeling like a sorbain.
I view it differently though.
(*)
"#0014, come forward an minister your blood type into the system. Don't forget to adjust and calculate the right amount of liquidation to yourself, or you might die in the process of transferring some of your blood through the 'Blood Transfer mechanism'. And be sure to not forget to leave a urinated sample of your waste near the open window at 305"
The man behind a large tinted glass spoke through the microphone, giving specific instructions to the frightens small girl holding back her sniffling tears. After finishing her blood transfer, she walked shamefully to the back of the open room where many, many more children were at. Some shook in fear, others stayed completely silent, some simply Kaye's on the cold soft floor there eyes lost and devoid of any semblance of light. Once more the microphone let out an ear pinching screech, to suddenly hear the voice of a man again.
"#0000, your test is next. Go to window 570, and give us a small sample of skin from your wrist. After that go to window 403, to test your ability to see, you'll only be given 2 minutes. Afterwards, we'd like to test your patience to a highly detailed mathematical analysis of the The Riemann Hypothesis, you'll only be given 3 minutes to complete it. Then we'd like a urinated sample of your waste, drop it off at window 305"
The man spoke coldly over the microphone. The young boy looked up at the tinted window barely able to see there silhouettes, only staring blankly at the barely visible sign of light fluctuating throughout the cold long black and white room full of children. The boy had short jet black hair, Asher blue eyes, and a expressionless face that can only be described as 'anthropoid'.
The boy then nodded walking over to his first test, his bare feet echoing throughout the black and white room of children passing them by one after another. The boy slowly began to fixate his gaze on the barely visible crack on the window in front of him, the small semblance of light he saw earlier was there again. He stared at it for what seemed like hours, his expression not changing in the slightest, only staring blankly.
The boy thought of a famous quote he heard from one of the many staff leveled of this anonymous place. "Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed." The boy thought long and hard on the idea of freedom, he's always dreamt of the outside world, what it would be like to live amongst the majority, having a mid life dilemma, going to school, making friends, being in a relationship, and or just living a life free of his choosing.
The boy looked at the crack once more, only to be brought back to his thoughts again. Freedom isn't a given; it's a feeling that's earned, and truly worth the risk of death and injury. The boys thoughts continued as he continued to do his tasks that were given to him, one by one he did them without fear and little hesitation. But his mind still pandered on the idea of him being free, after he finished giving his urine sample to the window at 305, he stopped to look around at the many kids. His thoughts lead him to stare once more at the tinted window of the many men in masks hiding their faces, just then the boy thought. What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or in the holy name of liberty or democracy?, maybe the world might be better off not ever knowing, or maybe it should, when or how, human beings always choose the destructive path of liberation.
But regardless of what human beings choose, they all follow a simple rule, a simple task, and a simple choice. The end may justify the means as long as there is something that justifies the end. But what truly makes that end, justifiable?
What makes up the end?, what makes up the means?, what makes us free.
The boy slowly walked to the edge of the black and white room reaching the wall. He slowly pressed his back onto the wall sliding down against it to sit down, he then only stared at the room with the many other kids. In that moment the boy let out a couple of words as he memorized each and every soul there, only thinking of how much time they had left.
"I guess it'll always be a mystery to me…"