***Here’s a little vignette (or rather more like a poem) about freedom I did at school. It may not be factually correct, especially about the part of ants, and my grammar isn’t the greatest but enjoy.
₁: It is a Webtoon called Jungle Juice by Hyungeun Jo. Honestly, I read this in a pretty cringe era in my 8th-grade year, so I don’t really recommend this.
Across the ocean, in a place far away, on a verdant field, with an oak tree above my head.
A place where they understand me, but I do not, but I hope I will one day.
Sitting on the dew-dropped field, though making my clothes wet, smells nice.
With my back against the oak tree and the oak tree tossing its autumn leaves at me like I’m a friend it’s teasing, I feel at peace.
The wind, with a mischievous look on its face, thrusts me, almost making me lose the book I was reading.
Seeing that it failed, it struts away in annoyance, huffing and puffing, humming its song as it walks away.
Little soldiers walk through the woods.
Little soldiers do their work.
They gather material, and they fight off intruders.
Protecting their commander and protecting each other.
They go along with life, and they have fun too, though they don little black armor and pointy pincers too.
I once read a comic₁ about people having the abilities of bugs.
It made bugs seem cooler than they do in real life, though they probably have more freedom than we humans regarding choice and duty.
I look at myself, and I look at an hourglass.
I want to grab the sand and flip the glass, to start all over once again, but I think the sand is in my eyes.
To run like lions across the safari,
To stand upright with composure,
To do their work without a worry,
For how I wish to be like that,
For how I wish to be like that.
Free like the wind,
Free like the oak tree that I see behind me,
Free like those little black ants in their own little world.
One day, when I’m free,
Free from the shackles of the future and expectations,
Free from grains of sand slipping through the hourglass uncontrollably,
I, when I’m free, no, I know I will be,
Then I can understand that verdant field across the ocean, with an oak tree in the middle, with freedom’s lyre lying in the wind.
Like they understand me.






