when i was young, i used to get a deluded sense of security by hiding under the blankets with just my face poked out. Somehow, the idea that every part of me is covered is enough to make me believe that im safe. With only my face as the only means of giving me away. Sort of like the ostrich in the sand i suppose but reversed. And then, i'll curl back in, whole body under and try to sleep. It gets too hot and i have to come back up for air again.
After 20 years of repeating this strange ritual when im alone, i figure its more than a habbit, its more of a reassurance. I have in the space of 5 seconds, created my very own makeshift home that cannot be intruded by everyone. Which makes me wonder what exactly happened to me when i was young that i so desired this "home" to myself. I need my space, i need time to think. think what?
And when i wiggle out of my "home", a sense of loneliness just drafts over. How can i get lonely outside my "made-for-one home"? And then, the familiar signs of emptiness and sadness draws in again. My form of escapism? i suppose. too bad in reality, things are not that easy to escape from.
But now im really tired, last night's party with all the noise and the crowd and the shouting... and i came back and slept at 3 after minimal sleep the night before... i just like to hole myself in here for a while more before i go out and tackle everyone. haha why do i sound like the whole world is against me? silly me... i love everyone!
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