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Dec 22, 2018 12:37:41

Pry it all away

by @flowen PATRON | 380 words | 🐣 | 44💌

lowen flowen

Current day streak: 0🐣
Total posts: 44💌
Total words: 16091 (64 pages 📄)

destroy your ikea stuff, play frisbee with your dvd’s

delete facebook, kill the blue bird

empty the fridge from alcohol

flush all drugs down the toilet

remove yourself from society and don’t tell anybody about it

are we still, who we are?

imagine your parents were dead and none of their teachings would still apply to your world.

Will you find God?


These extreme experiments have something violently attracting. Breaking away from the chains of society, all expectations and 'the system'.

Sometimes I can feel my true self. For a single moment.


To just see myself get buried underneath these same layers when I return. But sometimes that fleeting moment is enough for me to realise what I want in life.

Not saying we can do without society. Not saying society is badwrong or wrongbad. But sometimes it’s good to get away from all of it. No hate. No whining or crying or wishing for anarchy. As if that somehow will change it all, you punks. We're not condemning people unfit for society. But proposing the freedom to choose. To pry it all away, when you want to... and when you need to.

All this material stuff, we think we are because we own it. We think we are what we have and portray to others. That leather jacket won't make you a tough biker. The damaged denim jeans belong to the poor workers but are now fashionable and 'cool'. Offline or online. It’s all a faux. Realization of this only strengthens our will.

Stop listening to those around you for a moment. And if you ignore them long enough, you might hear it. It tries to scream, but no sounds are forming on its lips. But when you ignore the other voices long enough, you might start hearing a tiny whisper. That tiny whisper growing into truth. Dry crooked lips. Cramped up tongue. Unhinged jaw. But you can still hear the tiny whisper changing into truth.


That’s the moment when you touch God. A fleeting defining moment.

They’re not Hollywood-esque moments. No cosmic explosions or S.L.J. asking you what Marsellus Wallace looks like. They’re one of those moments when you’re sitting behind your desk. Staring at a couple of pigeons chasing each other. Wondering what freedom really means.

Originally published at medium.com

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