andiecrafts

Imagine falling in love with a shirt. Maybe not much of a surprise for hopeless romantics. But if you knew what was printed on that shirt, maybe you’d think I’m sick. Yup. That photo (–>) is a pathetic likeness of what was printed on that shirt.

Some might think it’s funny, but my current state can be pretty much captured by the print. Freedom can be taken away in ways more than one. Mine was just taken.

I am not much of a freedom bird. Clip my wings, and I’ll be just fine. Wound me, and I’m sure to heal. I can survive everything. But put me in a cage, and I’m sure to die.

There are so many things I want to do in this life. I could barely think of things I would not want to do. Funny thing is, I am being forced into doing those few things I so despise. It’s either me, or that’s just how life works. Painfully, I think it’s the latter.

It doesn’t matter who strikes the match, and brings it to the wick. As long as it’s done, the dynamite’s sure to blow up. I’m beginning to wonder who between the two of us is luckier. He has the choice of ending his suffering, even if the end is, well, morbid. As for me, I doubt if I have much of a choice.

There is always a choice. Or so they say. At the rate things are going, though, I am starting to lose the doubt that I might be an exception.