Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Freedom's just another word...

Good day to all who take the time to visit my little island, Xanadu. It's a beautiful day outside today. I woke up around 4:30 am to a commotion outside my window. it was a pair of sparrows flirting and chasing each other around. Oblivious to the sleeping humans on the other side of the window screen. They playfully filled the early morning air with their little voices, while we shamelessly invade so much of their world & space... Why should they care about us?

That's what I want to talk a little bit about today. The freedom to exist, and censorship. They are kind of like yin and yang. here in America, the word freedom is interpreted in so many different ways, with so many conditions attached. Do you really ever enjoy the unconditional right of freedom? What about freedom of expression, or speech? How often are you criticized openly or behind your back for being different in how you express yourself? Freedom is a real tricky word. It has so many different sizes and shapes to it... and in most instances, it fits into everyone's everyday life. But there are also many walks of life where freedom is interpreted in a negative way. I could write a book (or two!) on this subject. Instead, I just want to share a little something I wrote from my own personal experiences.

Between Times

Sitting here in the dark, just before the dawn, the stillness of the night soothes my weary soul.
It is here in these moments between dusk and dawn where my anxieties and fears are asleep with the rest of the chaos that engulfs the brutal little space I am forced to exist in every day.

I sit here in the darkness of my tomb, alone with my thoughts. Free to allow them to run rampant and undetected. My cell front is open and I am constantly on display, much like a mannequin in a storefront window--- exposed to anyone who may walk past. And they do, every 15 minutes.

Each soul that passes by, has it's own unique opinion or assumption about who/what I am and yet they haven't a single clue of where I came from or what really brought me to this display case.

Each cell is like it's own little piece of art. They all tell a different story. And each exhibit is judged and criticized and on display for anyone who passes by each day.

The true depth of each soul and their unique characters are never revealed. They are constantly smothered beneath a blanket of hatred and accusation and cold assumption.

It is only in these between times, the hours between dusk and dawn where most of the lights are out, that I am able to meditate and relax my mind. I can allow my spirit to soar and my imagination to contemplate what might have been and what still could be. My mantras run wild and free, soaring across the deep blue skies in the early morning breeze where there is still a blanket of dew covering most of mother earth and the smell of freedom fills you up inside.

I can see, feel and sense all that I long for surrounding me as I meditate and allow my soul to slip through these bars and flex my imagination before the clock strikes 6 and the noise of the keys in the doors jar me back to reality and a place where I can no longer be myself.

It is time to put on my dull mask and act the part I am forced to play in this unrelenting game of cat and mouse. The lights are on now, let the judging begin. Just fake a smile and maybe they will move on to the next exhibit. For they do not know any better.

Until we cross paths again, I bid you peace and hope that you enjoyed my ramblings and whatever you define as freedom. I have to go now, and play my part.


Steph said...

You paint quite a picture with your words. I'm glad you have that time in the dark to be yourself.

Petit fleur said...

Hi Steph!

This is not my blog actually. I manage it for a friend of mine who is on death row. He needs to be in contact with the world so badly and as far as I know, the DOC has not caught up with technology yet, so there are no rules against it.

Thanks for stopping by.

Zengoof said...

This is beautiful. The opening paragraph takes me to the fluttering critters and the rest of this piece paints a more vivid picture of the Row than I'd bet you think. It is interesting that in there, it's so easy to see that quiet is peace (or something very close to it), but out here in the free world, the same thing is true - it's just harder to see; harder to see that we are constantly distracted by madness around us (and inside our heads).
Thank you for your sharing and insights.

Steph said...

PF - I know, I've been lurking here.

Lady Lemon said...

That was beutiful and so well put. I bet it really does feel like a "display case" from the inside. I'm glad you get a little quiet time in there.

Petit fleur said...

Steph, Wow! Cool. Thanks. BD will be so happy to know. Please please please continue to visit and leave comments. It means more than you know.

LL Hey! It's me PF. I have to send the comments to BD and wait for his responses. In the meantime, thanks for stopping and please continue.

Spiral Dancer said...

I read this and I see what its like and feel everything- All of it.. is this you writing this or is this direct from your friend..
what a writer what talent ..please tell him so..please tell him he has touched my heart with his words..

Petit fleur said...


This is his writing directly. The first few posts, I did some editing, but not this one. I'm mostly editing grammar, spelling and punctuation as needed.

I print out the comments as they are and send them to him. Unfortunately, there is no way to make the process anything less than cumbersome because we are forced to use snail mail.

Thank you for coming by, I will sent these off next week.

Petit fleur said...


PS, I don't know if I was clear about this, but he will respond to your comment. I will try to let you know when that happens or you can just check back.