The sky can be oppressive. The atmosphere in a room is bound to turn tyrannical if too much time has gone after the door last closed. Winter clothes, ah, winter clothes, lead-heavy, turning shoulders and back into a shuddering mass of fatigued flesh. Who said it’s all political? The strangest example of oppression is the kind born inside. What is called ‘the soul’, (in a rather cavalier manner, one must say), is a fugitive slave. Ready to die for a sliver of freedom, it will feel oppressed till the end.