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Freedom

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What was it like the first time you went to the mall with your friends without your parents trailing behind?

What was it like when you stayed up all night giggling about pointless things?

What was it like the first time you disobeyed?

What was it like the first time you were punished?

Freedom is like the wings of a dove, beautiful and sculpted. The light shines off of it perfectly. Just enough that it makes you feel. As you grow older, you feel the freedom of life.

You breathe in the salty air and let the sand wiggle between your toes. You yell and scream at the roaring tides as they meet the shore, attacking your legs and ultimately engulfing you.

You let the air sweep between your fingers and the music pump through your speakers while you sing along as loud as you can, joy riding to god knows where.

You don't know where you're going but you know you're doing it with freedom.

Freedom is what shapes a person.

The freedom to laugh.
The freedom to cry.
The freedom to be angry.
The freedom to love.
Love recklessly because who is going to stop you?

Love with aggression, vulnerability.
Put yourself in pain, because when will you ever get the chance to again?

Freedom does that to you.
It makes you wild.
It makes you sad.
It makes you regret.
It makes you appreciate.
It makes you reminisce.
It makes you, you.

Nostalgia is the greatest tool.
Give it a reason to be used.




Freedom.





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