My grave inability to follow orders has got me thinking that if life was a long servitude then i would make a bad servant.
On my 23rd birthday i finally accepted that my ambitions were far more dismal than that of my parents for me. that their little improvisations of my very ambiguous plans are in fact now beginning to hurt.
Blameless, those poor souls had served and saved for their family and prayed so that one day the little mortal should rise to their mediocre heaven.
But I being me, am lost in the count of one to ten, unable to comprehend why each must come after another.

Someone once said, that in the history of our existence there had been no inventions, that we had only discovered what was already there in other forms. I had always wondered, if that was true then how did we ever think of Freedom, something that doesn't exist in all celestial nature where everything is bound to one another, how do we actually feel it while running wild in an open field?

It is way past my bed time, tomorrow i shall be summoned once again to turn a wheel in the world's machinery.

And having created my own moment of freedom, i feel like an Inventor all by myself.