Belonging to someone isn't always safe and secure. Belonging to someone means that he can toy with you like a marionette. Belonging to someone means that he can drop you anytime he wants. Belonging to someone means that he can do anything to you. He can make you twirl, he can make you whirl.
He is completely and utterly in control.
No, I won't allow that.
I don't belong to you, or him, or her. I belong to no one. I am the piece of paper drifting along the street. I am the lost balloon, hovering in the air.
But maybe I belong to the wind. But that is not much better. When it blows, I flutter at its mercy. But the wind has no motives.
The wind does not seek to hurt me. It does not seek to kill me. It does not seek to do anything to me.
But all it has to do is to stop blowing, and unwittingly, it drops me.
And I go tumbling down to the ground, the awakened air wrapping itself around me in a death grip, and I hear the susurration of angels coming to claim me.
Then suddenly I have wings. The shrill whistle of the wind laughs at me with its terrible humour. You gave me wings, dear Lord. I was falling...and you saved me. You gave me wings to free me from your dwelling. Murmuring and bowing my head in thanks, I fly away. I hear you berating your angels for tempting me.
I fly. I am happy.
I belong to happiness.
.X.
So, how was that? Liked it? Maybe you found it a tad confusing. Try and guess what my story means. It's got something to do with religion.
