Some things taste. Some do not.
Let’s take freedom for example. What’s the taste of freedom? Is it sweet? Is it bittersweet? Is it salty?Is it spicy? Is it taste-free?
Is it exalting? Is it burdening? Is it inspiring? Is it humbly?Is it prohibitive? Is it enchanting? Is it exuberating? Is it windy? Is it sandy?
I’ve got quite a lot of it: a metalic taste of the freedom to encarcerate people (not literally of course), a sweetlly – sweatly savor of freedom to be called a mother, an enchanting taste to beeing able to say „no!”, the windy taste of looking down from a skyscraper, a humble savor of freedom to look up to a mentor, a bittersweet tang of sipping tequilla in a prohibitive place, a spicy flavour of making love on a beach embraced by twilight…
My take on taste of freedom is that it depends on what we charge our minds with.
Our mind, and our mind only, can transform it from metalic into melting, from sweet into incarcerating, from enchanting into ‚scary to hell’, from windly into ‚down-the-earth-ish”, from humble into ‚pride-charged’, from bittersweet into sorrow, from spicy into rotten…
What’s the taste of your freedom? It’s certainly different from mine, from his, from hers. It’s yours and yours only.