the simplest way towards freedom

I don’t know about you, but one thing that my whole system has always yearned for has been freedom. No, I wasn’t tied to a rope. No, I wasn’t chained. I can walk in daylight and run if I want to. But there’s just an unexplainable cage in this life that only we could ever describe.

Well, I wasn’t born yesterday, so I am fully aware that this prison is just living in my head. Actually, those have been the difficult parts of it all—one is that I am aware; two, I have no one to blame for it. Come to think of it, it’s quite ironic, isn’t it? I create my own prison, only to be the only one who’s held captive behind these bars. I’m guilty for several claims; I didn’t even protest.

Seeing nostalgia in songs? Guilty.

Holding on to sorrow until it became part of my own flesh? Guilty.

Longing for several dreams that were forgotten? Guilty.

Wanting to grow bigger but shrinking my own capabilities? Freaking guilty.

But I still have one more thing to be proud of, to walk out of it whenever the sunrays wake me up in the morning. It’s not just telling me to rise, but also to accept the fact that the keys to my cage were thrown beside me. Go out and taste freedom. Feel it until it’s not just familiar to my tongue; guide it towards the path inside my heart.

One of the ways that I tasted freedom was in the sanctuary of writing. I started writing when I was in high school, and I decided to publish it four years ago. I started with random thoughts, then poems and prose, and now, even reflection essays about life and my experiences.

I held back a lot of times. I was afraid of judgment because I believed that my thoughts were too self-destructive to put them out there. But I kept on going. I kept on writing down every feeling and every situation that sparked my left hand to grab my pen and notebook. I wrote and I scribbled until I poured everything into one place.

I said before that anonymity is freeing, and I rest my case. No one knows who I truly am. My name, where I come from, what I do in life, my exact age, my height—nothing. I haven’t promoted my writings on my real social media accounts; I’m just satisfied to have my own corner on the Internet where I can be myself.

That’s my simplest way towards freedom. And honestly? Just like any horror movies I’ve watched, I’d recommend it to everyone. Not the writing or journaling part but rather finding yourself a simple habit you can consider as freedom. I think what we share as a whole is that we often find it hard to just live our life to the fullest—that’s something we can’t change. Life never meant to imprison us from liberty, but it also never meant to keep us away from walking freely.

Ups and downs, remember?

But in between, I hope you find a simple way to scrape freedom under your skin. Engrave it in your mind the way it won’t bite. Tattoo it on your soul the way it won’t sting. Embrace it like you birthed it. Love it like it’s only yours, because it is. Sometimes, we wander in our own cell and believe that freedom is out of our league even if it’s within our reach.

People would suggest many ways in order for you to feel the freedom you deserve, but it’s you who will decide which one feels right for you. Mine might be difficult for you to handle, but it wasn’t for me. Yours might feel too unfamiliar in my system, but it could offer you a breeze of comfort. Regardless, I believe that we all deserve to have the kind of independence that lets us just be.

We have no blueprint nor directions to follow—we only have ourselves to listen to what we silently hope for.

I am Cloud and I write personal essays, poems, and reflections about life in general. This piece is published under a section named “Altostratus” under my publication, “To all the words I couldn’t utter,” This section gathers reflections on healing, resilience, and the quiet process of moving through pain toward wholeness.