A treatise of protest. To everyone.

I have a recurring dream. No, maybe it’s a nightmare. My kind of nightmare. In that it often causes me anxiety. Until I wake up. And it’s that I have a writing assignment. At school. Or at work. And the deadline has arrived. And I haven’t finished. Or maybe I haven’t even started. And I wonder what I’m gonna do about it. Because I don’t feel like doing the assignment. But I’m still some how expected to do it. Obligated. And that’s a gawd-awful feeling. And this morning in the dream I finally decided to write a thesis, of sorts, on why I didn’t want to write. Because I simply didn’t feel like it. And it was as if I had just lifted a heavy burden from my shoulders. In fact, from my mind. Or even my soul. I began to feel that I had a right to say ‘no’ to a person in authority. My teacher. My boss. My parent. Maybe even to god. That I do not have to acquiesce. That I do not have to do everything that’s being expected of me. Being foisted on me. And that made me feel good. At peace. Because I would agree to write. But that I’d write only what I want to write. A treatise of protest. To god. To everyone. –Jim Broede