confessions of a sun worshipper

i don't understand society...it doesn't make any sense to me...so i live on the fringes of it...creating circles inside these oh so many squares...breathing chaos into this life-less, mechanical order...i need something more...Freedom...my time is my only possession and i choose to spend it in the way i wish...i will surrender control over my time to no one...for any price...my hands are connected to my heart...they are an extension of my very soul...my hands are a medium between the scource of all that is and the manifestation of creation...I will not allow my hands to be shackled by any man...they are sanctified...pure vessels to carry out the highest expressions of my soul...I will not labor to build a false kingdom that does not resonate with my soul...I refuse to be a slave...the slaves have built their own prisons and isolated themselves from the scource...fettered hands once had power...they were co-hearsed by their lower passions to bake bricks in the sun and now they are trapped behind steel bars and cold walls...seperated from the scource...stripped of their dignity.