This is freedom

This is freedom

Is the breeze the electric arc at the contact of the hero with reality, the warm hand in your hand of the present, the mirror where you reflect the self. Freedom is the encounter of your reality with the world, and freedom is the golden children of you becoming a part of the all. You think freedom is tomorrow or when your shackles will disappear. False. You are free or you are not, with or without shackles. Freedom is the condition of the living man, for there is life or there is not, and life is free and it will always be, as God, as a bird from the Eden garden flying in the sky of the eternal blue side of the world.

Your tyrants gave you shackles to scare you, thinking they can steal your freedom. Tell them they are the ones in shackles and will be forever under the devil’s spell. Tell them they are wounded animals, hounds from hell and they are the ones who are not free; for he who keeps the key to his brother’s jail encloses himself inside and loses the key to open his heart. He is the one who needs pity and compassion, like a mad, rabid, blind dog with a human heart trapped in his iron chest.