My writing

Puppet Strings.

I used to love being in the school play. I used to love acting. I used to. I loved the way that I would be given a role, I would have no choice of the role. It was just given to me. I liked the way i had to submerge myself into that character. It made me forget about the role I played in reality. At least for a little while. I used to sit on the edges of the stage and run my lines through my head. I used to watch as the director would shout when we got our words wrong. When we did not play our role. Because when we did not play our role, that was wrong. And we knew it was. I used to love to forget about reality and create a new one. Until I realized the school play was my reality, And then, I didn’t like acting anymore.


Before I used to fear being bold. And before I used to fear speaking in front of a crowd. I always wanted the main role in the school play. But I never got it. So I would sit there in my servants costume and look up at the girl who got that main role, that I had craved with such intensity. The popular girl. The one with all the fame. And I looked at the people surrounding me and realized. This play was not a way to escape reality. This play was a reality. It was the reality of society. The director was the dictator. The one who rules. And the actors and actresses were playing their roles. Just like in reality. Just like society. And as a 8 or 9 year old I sat there in my servants costume and wondered why nobody else had realized this yet. We were all being controlled. By our own society’s puppet strings.


I used to love going to watch the puppet shows too. Until the little dollies pink and perfect cheeks spun into a whirlwind of a twisted reality. I saw the string that controlled them. While the little kids around me screamed and laughed and their eyes filled with wonder,Β  as they questioned how the puppets were moving. They could not see the strings. Because they were invisible. But I saw them. And I still see them everywhere. Puppet strings.


You see we are continuously promised freedom. By every corrupt government and every corrupt politician. They will use this idea of freedom, because they know its what we all yearn for. We yearn to snap these invisible strings. We yearn to taste bittersweet freedom. But nobody truly knows what freedom is. Because nobody has truly felt it. So I stare at Donald Trump and his little fans. And I pity them. Freedom cannot be promised by a politician. Because a politician is the one that controls the puppet strings. Not the one who can break them.


But the yearning for our freedom can mist up our eyes. And those puppet strings that we once were invisible now completely disappear from sight and they disappear from mind. And we think we are free, we think we have overcome corruption. We think we have overcome being controlled. But we have not. Because we do not know what freedom feels like. But we do know what puppet strings feel like. Yet we believe these strings formed from the fundamentals of restriction are examples of our freedom. They are not. And they never have been.


You see my director is my government. And my fellow actors are my fellow friends. And my life, is a play. And if I mess up my words, I will be looked down upon by my director, because I am so close to breaking those strings. And breaking those strings would mean freedom, and freedom would mean a different form of humanity. And entire new way of living. A way of living without law, a way of living dangerously. A way of living which would create a humanity of savages fed by the ever addicting tonic called freedom. So I don’t. Because I have a role to play, so I play it. And so does everybody around me. And so does every little thing. Because we areΒ  living our own individual reality. We are living in a world where we are controlled by our own society. By the puppet strings that we made.


So I sit in my servant clothes and I stare up at those with the lead role. I stare at the boys face filling with fear when he gets his words wrong. I stare at the director. And I stare at the politicians when they promise me a better world. When they have the audacity to promise me freedom, when they are the ones controlling my freedom. When our society that we hand crafted from scratch is the thing that is controlling my freedom. And in the distance I see them ever so faintly, puppet strings.


Thank you for reading, I am very sorry this post is so rushed and not very well written. I had the idea for this the other day and I still feel like I have not developed the idea enough for this to be how I want it to be. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading!

Please like, comment and take the time to follow my blog.

Love, Misstery.








13 thoughts on “Puppet Strings.

  1. Wow! This was an A.B.S.O.L.U.T.E.L.Y well written post (I don’t understand why you said it was rushed!!!!) btw, WordPress is having the Blogging 201 course that helps in writing which I’m participating – not sure if it’s still open though (worth a try)!!

    Again, well written! Good job!

    Liked by 1 person

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