Soft white light, softly bringing forth a note of utmost irony in the air; I am not free. Walking every road, playing every game, doing all that I may, everything that I wish. Yet somehow, I am not free. I take myself hostage, heart clad in iron, I will walk only so, and look only so. Self-restraint is the only way. Within yourself is the only place to hide. Hide I do, from everything, from life, from the world. Pretending to be free, I fool everyone, but I do not laugh. No small fluorescent bubbles lift from my stomach through my throat to escape with a small chuckle across my tongue, not in the least. Instead, I keep the air around me stiff and muted, nothing can touch me through that invisible barrier. Haughty disdain is reflected beneath my heavy lids, but I am ashamed. To love, and be loved...to find clarity and truth. I can't let the truth flow from my sun-parched lips, I can't love without truth, so I am not free. No one knows me. No one is me.