Friday, November 18, 2011

The Body is Not a Cold Dead Place




 Sometimes when I get stressed or just need a second to myself, I close my eyes and go to the blue room. It's this silly coping exercise I learned when I was younger, but sometimes it still makes me feel good when I'm having a moment. I close my eyes. My happy place is a little room that has one window that overlooks a European city. I'm not sure where, but the street below that window is cobblestone and little houses run up and down the street. People walk along the pavement and a boy on a bicycle passes. The walls in my room are jazz blue and there's bookshelves along the left and right walls. There's also a beat up couch and a desk that I sit at. The room's door is across from the door that leads to the kitchen. Our kitchen has black and white tile and there is always a dark haired man making me a cup of coffee in there. I watch the city below and eventually a dark haired toddler comes and sits on my lap. We watch the city together and I point out interesting things. It peaces me out, this totally made up scenario. Maybe one day it will be true.

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