IT MUST BE TESTED

January 30th, 2024 | San Francisco, CA

I’ve been pondering, maybe too often, the dilemma that is free-will. And humanity’s relationship with it.

Free will.

I think my inquiry begins here. In the wording. Free. Will.

What does it mean to be “free”?

What is freedom? It’s defined as the power or the right to speak, think, and act as one wishes. Without hindrance or restraint.

Boy… so much to unpack in the definition alone.

Freedom, it seems to me, is not defined as something innate, or even natural. It’s described as something that has pre-requisites. Power. Rights. And as something that is possibly behind some obstacles. Hindrances. Restraints. Seems it is hard-won.

Seems it must be tested, to see if your perceived brand of it falls prey to hindrances. Restraints.

So what does it really mean- to be free?

Gaël Muteba 10/1/24 Gaël Muteba 10/1/24

I AM FREE

August 21st, 2023 | San Francisco, CA

I’ve begun reading The Fall by Albert Camus.

He is clever. I like clever. I never actually realized how much humor plays a part in being clever.

You have to laugh at insurmountable circumstances sometimes.

And that’s what he does. He laughs. In such a oh-so-clever way. I like clever people because they are often sad. I think I will enjoy reading his work.

My chosen and I are fighting a great deal again…

A part of me turns toward logic, deducing that such consistently negative patterns spell doom. Another part of me sees this as a challenge. A challenge involving another can either be turned down or it can be accepted.

Let’s see whether or not she accepts as well. I know I can also be a challenge.

I sigh often. A sort of… weariness, has fallen over me. I fear I have aged beyond my years far too quickly. I feel the odd man out now. My proclivity to turn towards the deep, the existential, is far higher than that of my friends, family, and colleagues.

I am alone. In that which I value most. I am alone.

Something tells me that is how it should be. That is what lends solitude its depth.

It is difficult.

I must reckon with the demons. I hear them, pounding at the door. Do I cower? Do I flee? Or… do I open? Will I be devoured? Or will there be discourse? Will I bargain for my sanity, my freedom? Will they even let me have it?

I am, more and more, blinking awake. Slowly. And I see a bit clearer, everyday.

I am light. I am warmth. I am all the things humans crave. In my mind.

I am free.