I am angry that my time is counted in traffic. Time is spent traveling to work. I’d never go to work if I didn’t have to. I don’t understand how I got here. Life flashed before my eyes. How did I become an artist in a cage like this? When did this happen?
The Cage Didn’t Appear Out of the Blue
At 16, I began to work because I wanted a car. I wanted to be free. To be limitless, away from my parents. Now, I’m trapped in a car. Every day. Running errands. Work. Pointless crap.
That vehicle needed maintenance. It was old and needy. Jeez, I could only maintain it through my income. I needed a job. The freedom I acquired came at a cost. I needed to spend eight hours to be able to have time and freedom in my vehicle. The more I exercised my freedom, the more my freedom vehicle broke down.
Upgrades. That’s all I could do. Yet, I wasn’t saving enough to pay cash for more freedom. So, I borrowed freedom. I was able to borrow a new vehicle. Borrowed freedom. What an artist thing to do. I put myself in a cage. Borrowing a vehicle came at a larger cost. My first vehicle was paid off. It was old, but it was mine. Yet this one is shiny, sporty, and reliable.
My borrowed freedom vehicle takes me to work and back with no issues. Ah, but do you see the loop I’m in? To work I go, to run errands with my borrowed vehicle, to live off an income that I need to pay off my vehicle, so I go to work. It’s an endless loop, until I stop upgrading, until I end all borrowing completely.
Rip the Bars off This Cage
I can get out of this cage.
Boy, my life wasn’t so bad at 16. I didn’t need much. I got greedy as time went on and became lost in society. The little girl back then wouldn’t recognize me. She never borrowed. She was free.
Now, I am remembering who I was. My free self. I can see myself lost in art, in nature, in the hills at night, watching the stars. Boundless wonder and dreams. I will be free again. Free to be me. Free to exit the norms of society. Cageless, like the birds.
I recognize the cage I’m in today, but through the bars, I can see the sky, and I hear the chirping of my brothers and sisters who are free.
Are you not angry? Angry that you put yourself in a cage too?
I am an artist in a cage.