your cage.

You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, "Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness." You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing, and you're terrified somebody's going to stick you in a cage. Well, baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somaliland. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.
We all build cages for ourselves. Perhaps 'cage' is the wrong term to use. How about, comfortable little nests- that keep the real and the scary out. These come in many different forms; subjective to each person. I know I throw myself into a social collage of friends, partying, good times, smiles. This is my nest. Instead of dealing with the actual and all of these omnipresent realities looming over my head- I resort to leisure. I dont hide from the world but instead throw myself face first into it. But I am not dealing with anything. I am not staring at these realities in the eye. Instead I cloud them over and wait for the sun to shine through. Well, the sun hasn't shown in a while and I keep running into myself in the strangest of places.