All writing is cowardice. All bravery is fear of failure. All acts of freedom are pleas for some form of captivity. Love is captivity. Responsibility is captivity.
Real freedom is a bowl of sand eaten naked at noon in the desert.
It sucks and you'll be all alone. A young boy is training an angry circle of light from the sun through a magnifying glass into your flesh. He is impressed with his skill. He burns a hole into you with satisfaction. He will remember this image later in his career as a district attorney.