All is boxes here. To step from one is to step into another. I hear there is beauty in these boxes, and indeed I have seen some of it for myself. Does that ever make them more than gilded prisons, though? I may refer to them as prisons, cells, perhaps dungeons--but never cages. To consider them cages is to suggest that air from an outside world of freedom can slip between the bars, but that is not so. Of course, if freedom is not something to aspire to, perhaps this is no trouble at all. How can I know when I know not what freedom is and see it only as my box allows? Or is what I seek truth? Reality? Thinking about it . . . those are probably just boxes, too.