Posted in Short Stories

Being free

He thought a lot about how much he wanted to be free to do whatever he wanted. He didn’t want to live by other people’s rules anymore. They were always telling him what to do, what not to do. Why did they care so much? Why couldn’t they mind their own business? He wasn’t hurting them at all. They just kept him from doing things because they didn’t want him to have any fun.

 

They didn’t want him to feel good. That was all it was. He wanted to do what made him feel good. Is that too much for anybody to ask? Hedonism is natural to the human being. Seeking out what is pleasurable is what people do normally. It’s how humans evolved, isn’t it? That is how the human species has flourished, by seeking out what is pleasurable and avoiding that which is painful. It’s biology.

 

And more to the point it was his life!!! He could do with his own life whatever he wanted. They were just keeping him from being his own person.

 

But he knew that that wasn’t the case at all. He knew that he wasn’t striving to be free. He was striving to be enslaved. Ever ruled by his addictions, catering to their needs for the rest of his life. It is one of the greatest ironies of life in the modern age that things which bring the greatest physical pleasure most assuredly cause the most pain in it’s aftermath.

 

And this was a pain that he was very familiar with. He knew when to expect, how long he had to wait. And yet he kept going back for more. Always coming back for more. That doesn’t sound like freedom. That doesn’t look like freedom. That looks like a man that has been beaten and imprisoned by his own doing, serving a chemical master whose bark is worse than his bite.

 

Those he said were trying to keep him from freedom were actually trying to save him from servitude. He twisted their actions to fit into his scheme of things. He had to make an excuse for his behavior, because otherwise he had to admit that he was a bit insane. Not by any fault of his own, but by the fault of the chemicals that he used to poison himself.

 

They were the rationale ones and he knew it. But he couldn’t admit it to himself without admitting that he had to let the chemcials go. He had to forever banish them from his life, never to return. For he knew that one single wiff of their scent would send him tumbling back down the rabbit hole.

 

That wasn’t freedom.

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