Memoirs of the Sire Bird

smokes and reflections

is it really mine to have- this life?

I’m starting to feel like they lied, because there is no possible way I can be working so hard for something meant to be my birthright…

The right to be.

It’s not happening. Me happy makes them unhappy yet their happiness is mine,

yet they don’t want to know me…

knowing myself is the main problem. I don’t understand when they say they love me yet striving to strip me of my dreams.

What is that? What is it called to protect a person to the point of strangling them to death; the term they use is “caring”, which confuses me.

So I recheck the dictionary. At least I make that effort, where most don’t.

And that’s where I make the mistake, that most won’t…

believing in the mythology of freedom… BEing of our own definition.