The Book Of Change: My Happy Place
“Solitude is the canvas of a thinking mind.” ― Joyce Rachelle
Hurray for those who can face the unpredictability of life and convert it into new personal memories! I am overwhelmingly amazed with the ease that some of you get to such accomplishment. Bravo, to those who can walk this world with the least of care, with an almost irresponsible lack of interest to live, yet seemingly are able to strip people like me out of so much hope! Lalah Delia once wrote, “Healing takes time, and so does not healing. Chose how you spend your time wisely.” I agree with this statement. Most of my life I have spent in absence. Secluded from any seeing eye. I have been hidden in a place that I have created, and where I grant no permission to anyone to enter.
In this hidden place I write. I imagine and create things. I design new universes where the souls of men are welcoming, and where the echoes of our heartbeats clash into a cosmic melody that unites us all! In this place the air is pure. The stench of lies does not exist. In here, there is absolutely no need to fake or to pretend. I can expose my flaws and still be me. Although a bit darker than the usual setup, my place is cozy. It does not get too cold or too hot in here. The temperature is just ideal to face each demon of mine head-on and continue to express my desire to disappear in the middle of all.
There is a lot of space here as well. I can run in any direction while screaming until I am all dried up of tears or at least until the adrenaline-infused energy is no more. Feelings and thoughts collide and create large fervid explosions in this place. I can almost feel the earth moving beneath my feet every time it happens. And that is because in this place I normally cling to life, but I have also welcomed death. The grandiose lightworks of impact from these two—and completely different—universes of logic, are astonishing! The sounds are deafening. The brightness can deprive you of sight.
And yet, I love being in here! In this corner where I sit, I have a great range of forward view. Nothing can hide from me in here, and that helps me to cope. I understand and accept all unchangeable things, and I also greet the painful wounds of disillusion with ease. I laugh a lot when I am here, but I also cry in agonizing pain. And this takes place not just because of my physical deteriorating reality, but mostly, because of my disastrous emotional emptiness. You see, in here I understand that my body lives but my heart shares, in a great show of unselfishness, how dead I really am inside. I am reminded that I am part of nothing, and that little by little I feel just that; nothing. The forward open space in front of me displays occasional random acts of kindness, but all of them eventually transform into new demons that I will eventually have to face. There is no mercy here. What you see is what you really get. That being good or bad.
I allow no one in here. I have shut myself in this shelter. I am confined to a new reality where I do not want to hear or see anyone. Sir Hope has tried to make his appearance occasionally, but he continuously gets removed from my life by a curse I did not see coming, and that insists in lingering close for the long haul. I am chained to a wall of possibilities that never materialize and that rip small pieces of my heart. And as hard as it is to accept, these pieces never return to me. They are gone forever.
So perhaps, this is an auto self-defense mechanism. It is possible that I do this to protect myself from unnecessary harm. And although I can admit that it seems to be working for that, it is also destroying the essence of who I once was. This place where I am at, is not welcoming. It does not have any alluring or inviting properties. It is just it. A bona fide piece of real state that can make you or break you. I can confess that in my case, both are taking place. While I feel stronger in some areas to face life, there are others that have managed to erase me subtly from this world. And the sad part is that I find no external support to fight against it. I feel no motivation to change that whatsoever. It appears this must take place. And at this point in my life, I would like to live the rest of it conflict-free! Accept and proceed.
Uh, no! The door has opened, and right in the middle of my writing! That means it is time again. A new demon has challenged me, and I must go to the fight. I will have to lock this door again and come back when ready. But please, do not worry about me. I am so used to these battles. Shoot, they have forcibly become part of me! Do not look for me though. I will not be found. I will most gladly sit in this corner—like I always do—and witness the development of another chapter in my life. Another episode in the empyrean battles of my mind. It may not sound like something too appealing after all of this but trust me when I say this, it is unequivocally, my only real and happy place!
Goodbye! …see you later.