I wonder , how good a thing a conscience is! It never really answers your dilemma. Instead, throws a volley of questions and each question with two equally tempting answers , of which , you have to choose one. It sees things through its black and white kaliedoscope. It knows no other color.
Sometimes, conscience acts carcinogenic. It perturbs you, unsettles you like a terminal disease that you can't quite medicate. It feels inhuman to be convicted time and again in its court. Conscience can never be lenient. It knows and seeks for nothing but truth.
As they axiomate , 'A life without conscience is unyielding'. I doubt how large a base such emphatic sayings really hold. The proverbial conscience is a brutal critic, a nagging step mother, an unloving cold wretch.
... I often tend to believe, I would have done much better without it. I could have lived a happier and a guilt free life. I could have been more savage, more wild following MY instincts.
I need liberation from this banal scrutiny. I wish to live free even if I were to live like a debauched Mafia or a bad outlaw. What is living free like, asks the bird in the golden cage.
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