Nothing but for Freedom

Not my personal decision it was but I felt, I personally felt that I was able to breathe after so much long. And I am finally able to stand on my own feet and it feels great that I am able to rebel against whom? Against my own psyche may be this would be right. A sort of silly busyness…of mine which I think is worthless neither that helped me financially nor that gave me a sense of satisfaction. It was and it is right decision of mine because it was my decision. My decision to not to be more burdened. How much I was equal to syspus, nothing but always running, always always in a rush a rush that will give me such tiredness which I hate a lot, which I have hated always. Still I do hate my own busyness because it never gave me freedom. The freedom I had wanted. The freedom I want to achieve.
The time I want to spend with myself. I don’t even have time for my self. My flowing kohl, my uncombed hair and my wacky punk dress up. I am a girl I too may be have desires to be beautiful, to get gorgeous, to chose the best shoe and best dress. But what do I have time for doing so, no that’s why I accept what I am, the way I look, never conscious how much weird. Sometime I feel like I live in my unconscious world. Where I live, where I grow and where I sall die. Living in this unconscious world of self where there is nothing to worry about everything happens in unconscious way and I find it awesome. Because when you are conscious then you will be in pain. Like the consciousness that made Hamlet suicide, like consciousness that made Othello go mad. But what about my own consciousness that made me contemplate.
Yes, a time I was conscious and that time I felt I need time for myself, people I call family, relatives, friends and all. I became conscious about the looks because I look so weird but yet this consciousness of mine didn’t make me feel that I should look like the other gorgeous girls. “Physical Appearance doesn’t count on my behalf, what counts is school of thought and mental capability” , said someone a long time ago.
Yes, I realized that I need to have freedom, yes I need to breathe, nothing but for freedom I am doing this. Freedom that I want and I need. I need to live and cheer for this life is mine and I want my life to be as I like. No pressure, No Boss, No Pressure and No Boss. Me and I , I am me, Sweta and Freedom. An escape, an escape into the Himalayas, the air of freedom for self.
Everyone has right don’t they. To be in freedom. I am in freedom too but still I feel bounded because of the competence in my mind that doesn’t let me be in freedom. The social, cultural and the political competence in my mind that doesn’t let me be in freedom. No, I don’t want to have a freaky freedom. A freaky freedom means umm..no I dont know the definition. I don’t know the defination, but I understand this what a freaky freedom means.
No, I don’t need that freedom but I need a space for myself. A Space for me. Space for Sweta, for living a life that I want, A dream of mine …Space for Sweta.. A life of own, a life full of nature and yes full of technology yes I can’t live without internet hahaha and without my baby bride. This would be too much. But people need technology and I am not the exception. So , I was talking about my space, My life is a space, hey to sustain life I need a space, my space, where I can write, write and write.
Time..where there is no time, my space would be like that where I would not have to run like I am doing like now, where I don’t have to compete with anyone..No hurt no pains no gain no losses, no feelings no sadness no happiness..(when there is happiness there will be sadness ).
A space nothing but for freedom, for my freedom, my space my freedom….my world and my life, my universe..

Advertisements

3 Responses

  1. It’s awesome… 🙂

  2. It was written long long time back 🙂 🙂

  3. hehe really do you think so?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: