I watch days dissipate
from maelstroms of insouciant realities
as hours turn into days
and those into months
of falling leaves
from autumn trees
that give way
to years
and those to lifetimes
diluted into an infinity of others that existed before us
As I stay silent in these corrugated lines
living in this paradox of mobility and immobility
that feel like days
stuck in cassettes
re-winded and played again
Before brief moments
of sanity
and clarity
emerge to play out to a microcosm
of a living universe
And maybe that’s what freedom
ever really is
Being able to feel existent
amongst eternities of madness
© Hudson Biko
Photography by Luke Besley
hudson biko 
These are interesting, deep thoughts on freedom. Oppressive but not alien to feel existent amongst eternity of madness. I think freedom has no definition. It is a feeling and this feeling must be the most beautiful feeling besides love. And it is a right of every human being. Just as love should be a right aswell.
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