2020-01-30 15:32:28 (UTC)

One Stroll at a Time

It's been a bad way to start a day. I woke up from a bad dream which surely poisoned my mood, I may have gotten just 4 hours of sleep, and pain is kicking in my internals so we all know what that means. My diary is my best friend for the day seeing as I don't trust myself to talk to anyone. My need for attention and affection will overwhelm, but at least it's temporary. It's very much a visible beast that's looming over me so at least I can set it to guard the entrance of the labyrinth. Good boy. I'm just going to take a little stroll.

When my dad was younger, he had a mental space called The Desert where he'd imagine all the people he hated were running for their lives in this hot barren desert while he drove after them in a jeep. I found that fascinating seeing as I had a similar mental space called The Gray Room, where I spend my time escaping everyone, reading or writing or listening to music on the most comfortable bed. It's always nighttime there, and the moon is always a full moon. What was fascinating about it was how dad's space was outdoors, mine was indoors. He brought people to him to torture, I isolated myself. And I've always considered that only dad and I were the introverts in the family. Different uses of the imagination. Now, the gray room is part of a house, the house's backyard is a green labyrinth, all on the edge of the woods that serve as a portal to all the worlds I've created. It's against the rules to reveal so much though.

I walk deeper into the labyrinth because I don't know any other way to express how much I need to escape here. Just for a little while then I'll come back. I'm supposed to go somewhere. I'm supposed to find it. It's oddly reassuring though. It smells like lime here.

Want some cocktail tips? Try some drinks recipes over here