My own confinement

These dimensions, these measurements are yours, they don’t fit for me. These structures, these comprehensions aren’t mine, they are all yours. Your definitions, your perceptions, all casted inside these fragile yet rigid molds, that leaves no space for others and yet they crumble at the inception of a new notion.
And these confinements that you have made for yourselves, these confinements that satiate any fear or doubt in your head, these confinements that give you security and permanence, these confinements that blind you, that obscure the voice of your own innocent realm. These confinements, they are just not yours; they never were, they are designed by the illusions of conformity, of safety and your own fear of failing.
I am not against confinements or structures, in fact, I embrace them. But I embrace them in my own understanding; I place them as beacon lights on my own vast landscape of freedom. You see the smallest of space and an infinite space, they can both be deceiving, both can be vast, both can be excruciatingly stagnant. And somewhere in between them, somewhere between your freedom and your confinement, you will find your truth, your voice and your own choice.
You will find the air that you need to breathe
You will find the words that are yours to keep
You will find your own silence
Your sound, your belief
Your silhouette, your essence, your depravity
Your love, your hate, your hypocrisy
Your own engraved individuality
And you will find that dreams are your own confinements
Your own paradigm
And not their institution or their blueprint1. My own confinement
These dimensions, these measurements are yours, they don’t fit for me. These structures, these comprehensions aren’t mine, they are all yours. Your definitions, your perceptions, all casted inside these fragile yet rigid molds, that leaves no space for others and yet they crumble at the inception of a new notion.
And these confinements that you have made for yourselves, these confinements that satiate any fear or doubt in your head, these confinements that give you security and permanence, these confinements that blind you, that obscure the voice of your own innocent realm. These confinements, they are just not yours; they never were, they are designed by the illusions of conformity, of safety and your own fear of failing.
I am not against confinements or structures, in fact, I embrace them. But I embrace them in my own understanding; I place them as beacon lights on my own vast landscape of freedom. You see the smallest of space and an infinite space, they can both be deceiving, both can be vast, both can be excruciatingly stagnant. And somewhere in between them, somewhere between your freedom and your confinement, you will find your truth, your voice and your own choice.
You will find the air that you need to breathe
You will find the words that are yours to keep
You will find your own silence
Your sound, your belief
Your silhouette, your essence, your depravity
Your love, your hate, your hypocrisy
Your own engraved individuality
And you will find that dreams are your own confinements
Your own paradigm
And not their institution or their blueprint
