I must create a system or be enslaved by another mans; I will not

Host: The night outside was still, the only sounds the faint rustle of the leaves in the breeze and the soft hum of distant city lights. Inside the studio, the walls were lined with unfinished canvases and scattered tools, the remnants of countless hours spent in solitude. Jack stood by the window, looking out into the darkness, his brow furrowed. Jeeny sat at the small desk, scribbling in her notebook, a quiet focus in her eyes. A single lightbulb above them flickered slightly, casting long, flickering shadows across the room.

Jeeny: (without looking up) “You seem distracted tonight, Jack. What’s on your mind?”

Jack: (turning toward her, his voice sharp) “I’m just thinking about how much of what we do is dictated by others. It’s like we're all trapped in a system, Jeeny. Everything’s decided for us, and we don’t even have a say in it. Every move, every choice we make is limited by something. It feels like we’re all slaves.”

Jeeny: (pausing, her voice soft but firm) “But there’s always a choice, Jack. You don’t have to follow the rules. You can create your own path.”

Jack: (shaking his head, walking toward her) “Creating my own path? That’s easier said than done. We’re born into a system. Expectations, rules, structures… they don’t just disappear because we want them to. Everyone is bound by someone else’s will, whether we like it or not.”

Host: There’s a moment of silence as Jeeny looks up at Jack, her eyes steady, unblinking. The air between them feels charged, as though an argument has been waiting to break free.

Jeeny: “But that’s exactly why you have to create, Jack. Why wait for someone else to give you a place in this world? Why settle for what’s been given to you? I think of someone like William Blake. He didn’t accept the rules. He didn’t even reason with them. He created. That’s the only real way to be free.”

Jack: (raising an eyebrow, skeptical) “Blake? What do you mean? He was a poet, an artist. He lived in a completely different time. The world was different back then.”

Jeeny: (calm but impassioned) “Exactly. And that’s the point. He didn’t let the world define him. He refused to be enslaved by someone else’s vision of what life should be. ‘I must create a system, or be enslaved by another man’s; I will not reason and compare: my business is to create.’ That’s what he said, Jack. He created his own world, his own system. He didn’t reason or compare with what others were doing. His business was to create, and through that, he was free.”

Host: Jack’s gaze hardens, a flicker of frustration in his eyes, though there’s something deeper beneath the surface — a flicker of admiration, perhaps, or something close to longing. He turns his back on her for a moment, his hands clasped tightly in front of him.

Jack: (quietly, almost to himself) “But not everyone is an artist, Jeeny. Not everyone has the ability to just… create. Most people just survive. They don’t have the luxury of a blank canvas. The world doesn’t give them that kind of freedom.”

Jeeny: (stepping closer, gently) “You don’t need a blank canvas, Jack. You have to see that your life itself can be that creation. What you choose to do, how you choose to live. The way you choose to engage with this world — that’s your creation. But if you sit back and wait for someone else to dictate it, then you’re just letting them write your story for you.”

Jack: (turning to face her, his voice rising) “It’s not that simple. Systems are everywhere. From the moment we wake up, we’re following them. Work, society, the government — there’s always someone telling us what to do. You can’t just ignore it. You can’t just will it away.”

Host: The room feels smaller now, the air growing heavy with the weight of their disagreement. Jeeny’s voice remains calm, but the passion in her words cuts through the tension like a blade.

Jeeny: “But that’s the trap, Jack. Thinking you have no choice but to obey. Resisting the system isn’t about just rejecting everything. It’s about finding your own purpose, your own way of creating within it. You don’t have to accept what others have made for you. If you want to be truly free, you have to create your own way forward. That’s the only path to real freedom.”

Jack: (pauses, uncertain) “But if I’m constantly creating, doesn’t that just mean I’m setting myself up to be bound by my own creation? Isn’t it just another way of being enslaved?”

Jeeny: (with a quiet smile) “Not if you make your own rules, Jack. Not if you own the system you create. Freedom doesn’t come from a lack of rules — it comes from making the rules that serve you. And no one can take that from you.”

Host: Jack stands there, staring at her, the weight of her words slowly sinking in. The flickering light overhead casts long shadows across the room, the silence stretching between them as he contemplates her perspective.

Jack: (softly, more to himself) “Maybe… maybe there’s something to that. To creating, I mean. But it’s so hard to step out of the system, to just… take control.”

Jeeny: “That’s the point, Jack. It’s hard. But it’s the only way to really be free. You’re not going to find freedom by waiting for someone else to give it to you. You have to create it for yourself. It’s your business, no one else’s.”

Host: The room is still, the only sound now the gentle tick of a clock on the wall. Jack’s expression softens, a faint sense of revelation in his eyes. For the first time in a long while, the possibility of creating something of his own seems within reach.

Jack: (quietly, more resolved) “I’ll think about it. I guess we all have to create something, or else we’ll just be lost in someone else’s creation.”

Host: The air in the room seems to settle, a subtle shift in energy as Jeeny watches him, a quiet understanding in her gaze. The moonlight from the window slowly brightens, a symbol of new beginnings, as Jack stands a little taller, the weight of his thoughts beginning to transform into something more purposeful.

The night outside continues its steady pace, but inside the studio, something has begun to change.