Who are we when we are not who we are?

Authenticity is home to the heart; a cozy room where all your experiences, passions, and failures can wander naked, scream the love and call out the injustice.
Expressing emotion can be one of the most thrilling, rewarding experiences in the world.
Unleashing that unspoken that has sunk deep, rooted in a nowhere part of your body.
But the world, ah, the world is brutally enforcing the idea that expressiveness leads to chaos. To unorganized societies. To endangered species. To a planet- mother to no one.
But who are we when we are not who we are?
What takes the place of all the beautiful thoughts that are plucked when they are springing?
If we all walk numb, afraid, and quiet, then who will be there to write the lyrics, to play the music, to dance the dance?
The world never really belonged to poetry or lovers or any form of art, but today, like in no other day, the world seems nothing more than a senseless, idle crowd.

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