The Giant

It seems I've mentioned this figure before, but to be honest, I have no idea what was going on in my head at the time.
..The Giant? Yeah, I don't know either.
However, I have been eclipsed in a catalyst of though for a bit, and have come towards a few rugged scraps of realization. Here comes the piping hot bowl of metaphor soup again, because we all know how that's the only way I can function. I guess everyone has a giant, who just looks down upon them in pity; and severs the stems of any blossoms that bring even a remote ounce of joy into their lives. We are all held captive to the 1,000 foot man above us, (and no, I don't mean that in some archaic religion bullshit) and are only as bold as allowed. And just to show unto us that it will never be rose petals and chrysanthemum, we are brainwashed intravenous needles and sewage of the mind, sinking us deeper and darker into the mass hysteria we have conjured. None of the kids on the block lead life with a purpose anymore, but only abide the least harmful instrument of the torture chamber. But the way I see it is; these chalk dust lives we lead, I'd rather have ended by the foot of the superior in the midst of utmost defiance; in a blaze of open rebellion, as apposed to the gradual deterioration, sheltered under the Giant's shadow.