What is freedom?

In this time of solitude, of being with my own presence and observing the unfolding of events in the world one question rings loud within my being. The question pulsates through my veins and it beats in my heart and it swells and expands in my consciousness.

What is freedom? What is freedom truly?
And my mind wants to form an answer. The answer I knew, the answer I was given, the answer that is written somewhere. I don’t let it. I let the question burn inside me. I let it hurt. I let it take me. I let it be. I sit with the pain of this question and I know the answer is silent and stirs within me.
What is freedom? Is it the breath filling my lungs?
Is it the response of my consciousness merged and lodged into a form yearning for dissolution? Is it my yearning for unity? Is it the silent strength of the oppressed? Is it the yearning to separate? To shed away that which constricts and traps the spirit of life? Is freedom death? What is it?
I ask you humanity.
What is freedom? Truly?
We have lived and died for it carrying the blueprint at the core of our existence. We have rebelled from the safety of the void and risen as stars upon the vast expanse of the night, asserting our existence upon the fabric of reality.
Is the act of existence itself my freedom song? Can it be given or taken? Can my fellow stars grant or deny it?
What is freedom? To abide in my existence uncompromisingly? To cast away all shadows of truth?

I ask you humanity.

sun1

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