Invisible Prisons

We live our lives in cages that aren’t there. The bars are, at once, both stronger than steel and more gossamer than a butterfly’s wing. They’re made of customs, cultures, religions, habits… ideas.

You’re gay, poor, black, rich, illegal, female, a foreigner, a man of class, a slut, a paragon of virtue, a philosopher, a hipster, a rapper. Ideas, all. They set goals, standards, boundaries, walls.

The map is not the territory. “This is not a pipe.” In fact, realize one thing. “There is no spoon.”

Think meta. The cage in which you live is a product of your imagination.

“You’re a butterfly
and butterflies are free to fly
fly away…
high away…
bye bye.”

Today, do something you can’t do, because it isn’t like you. There are no bars, but in your mind. What would you like to do that isn’t right, not because there’s something wrong with it, but because it doesn’t fit in one of the boxes you’ve so neatly labeled “me”?

You don’t have to pick one of the standard classes the game offers you. Customize your life.