"Hold on to What You Believe" by Mumford and Sons

Song: "Hold on to What You Believe" by Mumford and Sons

Feeling: Freedom

Description: So basically this entry is about freedom. I am not entirely happy with it but oh well. The song is "Hold on to What You Believe" by the amazing band Mumford and Sons. Again, I am not sure exactly what the band wants to say with the song, and my personal interpretation may, and probably is, wrong. But to me it's about holding on to your decision and taking your own path even if others, even those that are closest to you think it's wrong, and just in general holding on to what you believe when things get hard. But then again, I may be completely wrong. But that's what the song says to me (Or at least the chorus) and that's what the "story" (It's not much of a story) is about. :) 

Story (that is not really a story):

            I am a 14 year old girl who happens to have misplaced freedom.

In my short 14 years of life I have already managed to gain and loose freedom. Along with not knowing who I am I also happen to not know what my favorite song is, but when I was seven I did. When I was 7 I liked anything that was written by Phil Collins and was on a Disney Pixar soundtrack. Yes, the Brother Bear sound track was a hit with me. When I was seven I knew I was free. Seven years have passed and I have lost the knowledge of my favorite song, the meaning of freedom, and freedom itself.  

            Seven years have passed and I have learned that freedom is not something you can get in a day or loose in a minute. No, freedom is something that slithers in and out of our being, gently placing itself upon our souls and then silently slinking out when we let it go.

Yes. We let freedom go. I let freedom go. Freedom slinks out of our loose fingers like sand, slowly trickling out, with out us knowing until we look down and see only our skin. We let it go with out knowing, with out even thinking of the fact that freedom can be lost, and once you look up you only see the bars around you and the tight lock on the door, and freedom is gone.

And then that’s when it dawns on you that maybe your freedom is gone. Maybe society stole it away just like it stole who you were away, just like it stole what ever made you yourself away. And maybe that’s when it also dawns on you that society has stolen nothing, and you were the one to give it away in the first place. Society is just the cage, you were the one to lock yourself in.

            And that is also when you begin to rattle the bars around you, the tough metal cold and impassive, barely affected by your touch. The cage may sneer at you and you recoil giving up on it. Rather be locked up than be ridiculed right? Rather be a quiet and good little prisoner and lock yourself in at night than get hurt by trying to break the cage, plus the cage is made out of metal. How in the world do you expect to get out of a metal cage? Silly me getting my hopes up that I can get out of this metal beast.

            No. Wrong. Fact is the cage isn’t made out of metal at all. The cage is as hard or soft as you will it to be. You can make the lock a rubics cube and try to solve your way out of it, or you can make the lock come loose with something as small as the flutter of a thought. That’s up to you. In my cage that is up to me. 

            And once the lock comes free you can step out of the cage. That’s the second stage of it all. The cage isn’t as easy to leave as you may think. Truth turns out that the cage is actually a pretty safe place. It keeps you dry form the arin and critiscm of others, it makes you feel warm with the fake compliments you might receive for staying up to date on what others want, all in all the cage is a pretty nice place.. One down side though, you may loose yourself inside the cage. But not to worry, not to worry, it doesn’t really matter does it? Not when you’ve got shelter from the rain and warmth from the fire.

            Wrong again. It matters because it matters to you. It matters because in my own cage it matters to me. Because you already picked the lock loose, now all you have to do is get right on up and crawl out of that metal thing. And you do. I did. Unsteadily, tripping a couple of times because it’s been a while since you’ve used your legs and with your head down. Wouldn’t want any one to notice me. Now that you’re out of the cage there is no more shelter from the rain and there is no more kindled fire. Now you’re exposed to the criticism of society because you stepped out of it, you slipped out of it’s clutches, you betrayed it. And it’s mad. The rain stings and the cold reaches your bones. You’re not doing any better out here than you were inside the cage.

            At this point you might want to run back into the cage. It welcomes you. It says your hair doesn’t look right but it can fix that. Neither does your music taste, nope that definitely needs fixing. Don’t. Don’t go back in. Trust me your hair looks fine and your music taste is great. I know mine is, odd but great. But one part of it is inevitable you’re not much better here than you were inside the cage. You’re not exactly free here, not any more free than you were in the cage at least. Maybe you’re even more jailed up, if that’s possible.

            You see freedom won’t come until you let it. Until you stand up for it, and until now I have done nothing but crawl and slouch. I haven’t stood up for what I believe in, nor what I think. All I’ve done is gotten out and kept things hidden, just as they were inside the cage. You’ve got to try a little harder than that. You’ve got to fight for things a little more. Society will try to stop you, oh they will put you down and sneer and make sure you don’t become too different. But again society is only as strong as you will it to be, as weak as you make yourself. The cage is only as mighty as you make it.

            Now comes the hard part. You’ve got to hold your head high, stop slouching. You’ve got to let yourself go, stop impeding yourself and correcting your words. Stop cursing when you mess up in front of someone and stop fussing over whether you are good enough. You’ve got to start caring about a little something called who you are. And knowing what you believe in, and standing up what you want. Slowly freedom will begin to come. It will sink into you making the rain that crashes down on you warm and sweet and ebbing away all the harsh comments.

            And maybe then you will realize something else. Maybe freedom isn’t about stepping out of the cage. Stepping out of what ever put you down. Maybe freedom is about knowing who you are within the cage. Not letting the cage change you and holding on to what you believe.