Freedom's cost

So, where do I start these days? I feel suffocated. I have this itch to figure out the secrets of the world, about myself, about those I know and I can’t even scratch the surface as of late. I need to find a way to ask the universe the questions I used to know all the answers to. But where do I start? How do I call up those skills that have all but faded from my mind?

I start. I write today. I dive in and break the ground I need to to give me air. I find the hiding place that all my creativity has been locked away and I set it free.

Because I won’t be free until it is.