"Caged Birds Do Not Sing, They Multiply"

#0044. His freedom came at spectacular cost. Those dark nights of moving along poorly lit sidewalks, arms and eyes bloodied, fill him with nostalgia. He thought drugs were a cheat to it. A hoax university. Insight, he believed, required suffering. And he suffered and saw the visions of it without aid. He saw the line of birds on the outside, waiting for him. Prison became an objective. The birds still sang in their cages, he thought. These birds, though, were outside the entire time.