Flowers on the Chain

The truth of our existence within the world is a constrained one. Is the “freedom” we think is found within music or on the dance floor anything more than flowers, the stems weaved through the metal links of our chains? Perhaps what captures us is so complete that it covers up the interlinking of the flowers and the chain. Is there something to be found in accepting the chain as part of the flowers? To dance despite or within our unfreedom? When we write about music nowadays we are stuck within certain tropes.