?There are three types of freedom; mental freedom, monetary freedom and physical freedom. Freedom doesn?t come to those who are young easily. Freedom comes with age. And, with age, desire may fade. Freedom is pointless if there is no desire,? my older sister said to me, as I sat on the edge of her bed, my ears and mind both working together to absorb everything she said. It was all so useful. She was my talking bible. I lived by her word. I did everything she said.

?You often have to earn freedom, but there are some people who have already earned it and still don?t have it. We are lucky. For us, we have no choice but to be free? eventually,? the words seemed to roll from her lips like they had been practiced for many life times. I wanted to stop her. To ask more questions but, I knew from experience, that once she was stopped it was difficult to get her to start off where she was last. I wanted to record it all but, my memory could never let go of any of this. No. My mind would dare not betray me. I loved the way that she thought. I wanted to have that too. Always wondering what others were thinking, or if they noticed the small things that made such a big difference.

?We are all termites, eating her from the inside out. She can?t live with us here. She?s trying to destroy us,? she said to me, talking as if she was Mother Earth herself. She made so much sense to me. She made too much sense. Why did I have to understand her?

?Bury my naked body beneath the ground, and I will live forever,? she scared me, but she was not scared herself. Not scared of our horrible fate that she believes to be the beauty of it all. Life in death. She doesn?t think she has time for fear. I wish I could be like that.

?Fearless,? her voice is a whisper now and her words seem to float away. I picture them flying to all the souls and minds of those she has saved through her words. The literature of her soul. Fearless.