Freedom in Prison

Who is a free human?
What is a prison?
What is freedom to a baby born into a prison?

Is family one of the walls of the prison?
Is money one of the walls with multiple layers?
Do all the delicious food, soft bed, and warm water look like walls?
Is society one of the most colorful walls with the pictures of their gods?
How about loneliness? Is that a seen-through wall?
All those friends and partners are more than bricks in the walls.
Could emotions made of water be steel walls?


Is a human free if they can pick:

How free would that make them if this room is in a prison?
How could a person claim to be free if they do not even see the walls of the prison?

This is not an ordinary high-secured prison.
This is an extraordinary non-secured prison, which has all its doors open.

How could a prison be the most secured one with all its doors open?
Can one see the doors if they don’t even see the walls?

What is the most watered flower blooming in this prison? Love or fear?

Who gives the flowers?
The ones inside the prison, or the ones outside the prison?
Which one would give a love flower?

Would anybody walk out and back in the prison?
How would that make the definition of freedom different?

brand-new prison

How could you claim to be free of something if you never stepped outside it?
How could you claim to make a free choice if you are not even aware that the choice was given to you?

Is there anyone else outside the previous prison? Has anyone escaped?
If so, should I listen to them, or follow them?
Wouldn’t that be only stepping into their prison?
Who can help me escape from the previous prison?
What if that way trapped me in the first place?
Could a way be both imprisoning me and releasing me?
Who could help me if not me?

Can I make my own prison?
What would be the point?
Is there a possibility that at least I can move from one prison to another?
How about freedom now?

prison in prison

What if this is a prison inside another prison?
What is the ultimate prison?

An extraordinary prison that the more I try to escape, the more secured it becomes.

Am I the one which is in the prison?
What if I am already outside the prison?
What if I am the prison?
How could it be possible,
I am in the prison, which I cannot escape, and also I am outside the prison?
Is this a problem of what the prison is or/and what I am?
Will I ever be free?


I don’t even know what freedom is now.
I am far from being a free human.
I don’t even see the prison itself completely, but just some of its walls.
I don’t see the exit yet, but only some small openings.
I don’t know how to build my own prison either.
I don’t have any idea how to move from one prison to another.
I only know that I am a slave. A coward one, also a blind one.
I only know that I am a master. A greedy one, also a comfortable one.
I only know that in my own prison there will be only love flowers for any and all.

I feel like that I am a slave human in their prison,
I am a free human in my own prison,
and I don’t know who I am when there is no prison.


I am as meaningless as and as beautiful as the bird flying in the sky.
The bird just bes in an instant and puff.