After Rain

The dawn, after the rain had trumpet its force on the old roof tiles it ceased to a soft drizzle harmless and tender. Yes, I know I should get up at seven steeped as I´m a protestant work ethic. Overcome by laziness, I slept for two hours more. In my drowsiness, thought about how our freedom has been restricted by the internet, our thought and secrets are no longer our property but shared by authorities that want to know our innermost thoughts. We are prisoners of an all-embracing society that will not tolerate thoughts other than banal comments about a friend`s birthday. What we heralded as a great instrument for communication is perverted and spied on by our leaders. Free speech only exists for those who have nothing to say and accept living in the land of the convention. Nothing can be nobler if we demand our right not to be censured and called seditious because we will not be trapped in the trivial acceptance of perceived lies.