Between paper walls

It might be the rainy weather. It might be my cold.

But the fact that I’ve been feeling imprisoned again can’t be a coincidence. Everywhere I turn around there’s rules, there’s procedures, there’s laws, there’s expectations.

I feel imprisoned in a huge dehumanized system that makes no sense because it lost its soul a long time ago. I loose bits of myself in it, I am always an outsider.

Sometimes I’m not able to breath. I look around me and I wonder, is there anybody else feeling the same way? It’s difficult to know, because everybody seems so well adjusted. We all seem well adjusted behind our masks.

And then my doubts come screaming at me. My two kids at school, being measured and struggling to learn how to read and write. What is really important? Being a pedagog this question strikes me hard, at the same time I feel that the system also imprisons my children trying to tame them while the work system is trying to tame me. But I don’t want to be a slave, I want to be able to choose freely, to live where I want, to create a world where we get to breath.

And I wonder…who needs to be tamed? Who needs to learn about life through books? Who needs so many rules to live a fulfilling life?

In the middle of this pain I wake up. I deny being trapped between these awful paper walls, now it’s time to tear them down.


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