Illusion Boulevard, Mirage City

A message from the wanderer to the Dreamer in Chains

From: The Wanderer

Infinity Lane, No Fixed Abode

Second Star to the Right

To: The Dreamer in Chains

Apartment 88, Cage of Gold

Illusion Boulevard, Mirage City

Date: time is a concept

It’s all lies, darling" every rule they made up, every name they gave. They tell you beauty is symmetry, but they only ever saw half the moon. They’ll say success is an address with a view, but it’s never where you find the stars. They tell you to work hard, then harder, until the hours drip like blood from your bones, while they build their towers on the backs of our unspoken stories. They say the path is paved, but they don’t tell you about the cracks" the ones that sprout weeds and dreams too wild to tame. They hand you maps bordered by red lines, say this is yours, this is mine, but they forget that rivers don’t obey, that mountains laugh at their careful lines, and that all the maps ever did was lie.

They tell you patience is a virtue, but only if it’s silent, only if it waits behind bars they call a salary. They tell you to wait while they eat the fruit, swallowing the ripest hopes whole, leaving you only the seeds, scattered like promises. They say strength is in silence, but the earth still roars, still echoes the cries of all that’s gone untold. They teach you to fear your own voice, tell you not to howl or rage or let the fire show, because they know you’re more powerful than their stories say.

They’ll build fences and walls and call it safety, as if the sky doesn’t soar right over them, as if birds were meant to be locked in cages. They’ll say freedom is a choice, but chain it to their conditions. They tell you that truth is a mirror, pristine and perfect, but they never mention that glass can lie, can bend light to show what they want you to see. And when you shatter it, they’ll say it’s you that’s broken, never that their truth was never whole. They’ll tell you to color inside the lines, to keep your head down, to live by the script, but darling, you were meant for more than their stories, more than the tame lies they weave around our wild hearts.

So, break the rule, love. Climb the fence. Burn the map. And when you find the stars, don't forget: you were always meant to shine.

Yours defiantly,

The Wanderer