Here lies a knob into the room of what was once untainted thoughts.

Thoughts that have been glazed across the drywalls of confinement and have seeped into every crooked crevice through vibrant meticulous strokes of I can do it.

Inside you’ll find a rare creature perched by the single shiny double paned glass window which reeks a pungent aroma of Windex and I won’t let you do it.

Oh that cruel window of mockery.  

 

If you’re anxious to enter and catch sight of this creature, beware the mess of an unmade bed and torn feathers scattered on the rugged carpet floor and a computer screen opened with several tabs of where do I go from here.

This creature is incredibly fragile.

It stares out of that double paned glass window in awe of the capabilities of man that shuffles on the ground beneath it with a disturbed expression on its face.

It observes the way man passes by wandering the dim streets with an optimistic eye and a struggle.

but if man can wander the streets alone with a struggle and without the assistance of wings or without a predetermined direction or a complete certainty of the future of man’s destiny or a mentality that encompasses freedom then what is it that makes man so admirable to this creature?

 

It’s man’s ability to take risks. It’s man’s ability to turn the other cheek against the negativity of the pessimist and come to terms with the harsh reality of the cynic.

 It’s the capability of defying odds for a split second in order for the rush of self-worth and appreciation to crawl its way into the labyrinth of a doubtful mind.

It’s the strength to cover eyes and ears to block out all restriction placed upon them by other people without their approval.

It’s inspiration. It’s power. It’s liberation despite captivation.

 

This creature has been trapped in this room for a long time. A realm of self-satisfaction followed by confusion followed by self-satisfaction again followed by will he approve?

The creature knows of its potential and its reminded of everyday through those brightly colored strokes across the four walls that scream yes you can do it and you’ve made it this far and look at you now.

Yet it still sits there and waits.

For approval to open the door. for approval to finally admire the strokes on the wall. for approval to release it from the confinement it created.

It sits there waiting for HIS approval to walk in, open the window, and set it free.