Condemnation of existence

Freedom seems pleasant and attractive. Like fresh fruit within reach, freedom is reflected in the smiles of those who live it and echoes in the dreams of those who have not yet enjoyed it. Freedom, that virtue for which one kills and dies, is the heart modern empires, of which they boast government and what those who do not understand its essence complain about.

Freedom is repeated ad nauseam, losing its meaning due to a distorted synonym. Freedom was turned into debauchery, and debauchery into law. We lost the North and entered the dark mouth of meaninglessness, because if we don’t know the clothes with which what Marianne wears, We couldn’t find it even if we had it in front of us.

Because freedom is not a bastion to hide in, but a prison, a glass prison. A bubble that kidnaps us and confronts us with the numbness of conformity. Misapplied licentiousness numbs, transports us to sleep under the brugmansia tree. We are what we believe we are, but we don’t remember the need to take on the weight of what we are. That’s where the meaning is lost. Existence precedes essence, but what does that mean? We exist in this life, aimless and meaningless, ruling reality with our own presence. Freedom confronts life.

What is freedom? Punishment, punishment. The possibility of choosing any direction, any path, is not a clearing in the forest, it is a storm on the horizon. Because freedom requires payment, it requires retribution. Freedom seems to us like a ready ship set sail, a green and fresh route that turns into a hard stone path. The decisions we make spoil the path ahead.

We are what we choose to be, we are bound to do it ourselves in charge of every single option we take from the table.

Freedom blinds us, traps us and lies to us. It makes us believe we have the reins on the wild horse of life, but we are nothing more than addicts chasing the shadow of what we think we want. Our life, what we stand for Let’s defend ourselves, let’s start, sleep and drink, It is a conglomeration of options that robs us of meaning. The lack of a clear route, the lack of someone to guide us, the lack of a primary goal causes us to get lost among the branches of endless inconsistencies.

Responsibility, obligation to be careful about everything we decide, is the only lighthouse left to us in this dark sea that we sail without a keeper. How different the garden looks when the gardener understands his duties!

Because living without weight, without chains is much more pleasant, obviously, but there is no point in not leaving a trace of your presence on the ground. Freedom is not understood without responsibility, it is what it is contextualizes it, gives it meaning, direction on a cart that rolls out of control. Once we internalize the inability to live, feel, exist in this dimension without the virtue of accepting the flaws, mistakes, victories and successes that our actions bring us.

It is the key to light, understanding, the understanding that we are not ghosts wandering Eden without a path, but that we are beings, flesh and blood, with consciousness and action, who must direct our own path.