The Gilded Caged
“Preheat oven. Remove sleeve and film. Place on a baking tray in centre of oven until golden brown and piping hot. Allow to stand for one minute.” – ye cooking instructions for the bird in ye gilded cage.
Have you ever felt as though…
You should have said No when you said Yes… or Yes when you said No?
Or you said No but someone decided that your No was a Yes…
Or you said Yes but someone heard No…
… and then gave you all sorts of emotional blackmail hell for it because they were not listening to what you were saying, they heard what their mind was telling them that you said which is actually what they expected to hear because they’re a medieval mofo…
… and they spiraled from there because…
… that’s what they do, and you’re stuck in a cage having to put up with what they do.
“But she was so happy in her gilded cage, wasn’t she? She ate well, slept well, enjoyed herself She lacked nothing. And then, look, a bunch of mental cases turn her away from her happiness and send her to — how did you put it? — to ‘blow herself away’?
The happiness you offered her smelled of decay. It repulsed her, you get it? She didn’t want your happiness.
Do I have to draw you a picture to make you understand, or do you refuse to look reality in the face?”
― Yasmina Khadra
They trapped you in a cage because everyone else kept flying away when they did this, so they learned a lesson from it – keep the next person in a cage so they can’t flee…
…and make that cage pretty… put some frigging bling on it…
…because that cage is one they’re trapped in too, but you don’t know that and neither do they.
Or something like that.
If people are smothered by love… why would they ever want to escape? It is love, after all…
“…knowledge and ‘the facts’ face off against illusion, against what might be – and if we aren’t truly clear on who we are and in our connection to reality… …then we may come out the worse for it.” – Julie Demboski
Is it love… or something else?
Have you ever felt as though you have a grid wrapped around you?
A restrictive thing which somehow cages you in.
Try as you might to break free of its boundaries, it’s made of a flexible material which just shapes itself around you, keeping you trapped within its boundaries no matter what you do to evade its perimeter security system.
Have you ever wondered how and why it does that?
Is it all really someone else’s fault, is someone else the only lightning rod of blame, is the Machiavellian brilliance of your captor truly that superior?
Of course, it is…
or we might get lambasted for doing something which is bad…
or otherwise you might have to consider the possibility that you’re not sure if you want to escape from it, which may be why it is so hard to elude, evade, and break free from it.
You’re in a gilded cage… even when there is nothing luxurious about its bars… there is a certain luxury to it.
Somehow it’s safe… safer than what lies beyond…