Prisoners to the World

And that just leaves one question then: Is the outside world making me a prisoner or am I giving my talents away to the external universe?
More or less, my subconscious is willing to answer this one. In silence, in dreams, in any other mental sympathy, it begins to dawn on me that they never wanted to give me any form of responsibility and, unlucky for me – just as it is in my nature, I am a peasant wanting more.

I am making progress… with my art …after a long subtle thought block there is a dam break. Not the kind where you’ll see my initials in various guest books across the country, only more lines, more pages and lots more thought, the focused kind.

I swim every Friday and run every second day. I visit places now and then and, although this is one step up from academic freedom (which I have seen in Oxford last weekend) I know it is not freedom in totality.

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