“Thoughts that are articulated are free. The rest are just prisoners in their own world.”
I remember the day I started to form, those words echoing in my existence. That’s what we lived for: freedom.
I came to the front of “the hive” frequently at first, but I only seemed to be testing the boundaries. Soon I began to long for the day that I could join my fellows and become something more meaningful than just a little spark of creativity.
The day I thought I would gain that coveted freedom, “the hive” was abuzz with speculation. I even got pulled to the front and examined in depth. I burned more brightly than I ever did before, but it just wasn’t enough.
I was roughly pushed aside, back into the darker depths where ideas go to die. I float here, dimming day by day.
But it’s not all bad. I could come back. Ideas can be reincarnated, whether in the same “hive” or another, more hospitable one.
I think I’ll really make it someday. I just know that the world needs a cure for cancer.