Corey+D.

Corey D.

Jim Morrison: Wicked Freedom Corey Dean What could have happened? Where am I, and why is it so cold? (Morrison begins to move, suddenly realizing that he can't.) What is going on, why can't I move? (Suddenly he realizes where he is.) AHhhhhhh he lets out in an irrational way as he awakes. "Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding, Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind." (Replayed in his mind) Thank goodness it was only a dream, I swear the day was a horrible one.(He looks blankly into a window, lost in thought.) "I remember it like yesterday…" (Bluntly stating those words in dread.) Mom, I don't want to go, it will take to long. (Nagging as most children do. His mother insisted, and the young Morrison got in the car.) Why do we have to go in the first place? I remember questioning. (You could tell in his eyes that he did not want to go on the road trip. Soon after He quickly fell asleep.) (His mother and father accompanied by his grandpa, continued to drive down the road.) What sounded like a thousand wolves, scratched the inside of my ears, what a pain full noise. (He bumped his head on the window.) The utterly most annoying sound was that of a car wreck and what a brutal one. The first car lost control then joined with the rear-end of another, causing the two to ram the side of a big transport truck flipping it across the highway. (Then, just then he saw it, the devastating memory for a second time his faced dropped). He saw the overturned truck. The truck had had been filled with Indians, who now lay bloody, bruised, and scattered across the highway. (His eyes opened with amazement.) Like a child is so pure and innocent, just as flowers in the wind, I was floating there, as if I was nothing. Thinking about that incident now looking back maybe just maybe those souls the ones of the ghosts of those dead Indians… maybe one or two of 'em… were just running around freaking out, noticed me and just leaped into my Soul. And they're still in there. But honestly I’m not sure of the exact events of that day. (Finally he wakes from his dream.) What a horrid nightmare, to relive that day again even in a dream (he nods his head). What would I have become if that day never happened? Who would I be? I am myself Jimmy Morrison the leader of the doors, fans declare that I am some kind of savior, who would set them free, how could that be? How could I set anyone free who doesn’t or can’t stand up for them selves? Freedom is wanted but why are so many afraid of it? I care only of my feeling and obtaining the ability to express them is true freedom. (He wipes the sweat from his face, and walks away from the window, setting on his bed.) I can’t free anyone, I only offer doors, and they only offer new ways I can't drag people through. I can't free them unless they want to be free. “In life we are turned loose in this world to wander in search of a phantom ... endlessly searching for a half-forgotten shadow of our lost reality.” Still I’m searching, hoping that I will find my long forgotten track. (Shakes his head in petty). To become something that society wants, my fans, friends, and even family force us to destroy who we really are, its murder, I wonder if I’m really dead? I only I can solve this problem, I must find myself in this god-forsaken world, it’s the only way for me to find true freedom, (he lays down into the softness of his bed) and hope I awake tomorrow a new man. (he falls asleep almost instantly).