Ultimately, regardless of our binds, we are free people.
Obligation leaves no choice in the matter, but this is no matter. This is an intricately defined web of deceit.
We face illusion every day with no speak of it. How finely we lace intention and truth. It is the human condition to make a mess of everything. As we have. One articulate circumstance of our own doing.
Who could have guessed? My ambition is only as enduring as the impression of the dress I wore that evening. It has been hung on a hanger and put away for some other day, with the hope that I will not outgrow it.