07th January, 2015. 12:44pm
This is in response to the Daily Prompt’s “Oasis“.
A sanctuary is a place you can escape to, to catch your breath and remember who you are. Write about the place you go to when everything is a bit too much.
It’s the only thing that hasn’t been touched by darkness, although you could say it holds every little secret I have. But when things get too dark and I can’t take it any longer, it’s the first and only place I go to.
I used to share the bedroom with my sister, but ever since my brother and his family moved out and my sister took over their old room (the Master bedroom), this tiny four walls has been mine. When we had the house renovated, I turned it into MY silent sanctuary. I designed it for me, and no one else. It’s not the biggest room in the house but it’s mine.
When the renovation was over and I revealed my tiny lair to the world, everyone basically said the same thing—it’s so ME. From the bookshelves to the bed, and down to the closet and every nook in this tiny four walls, it screams ME. I intend to keep it that way.
One of the things I love about my room is I don’t have to go anywhere else to recuperate. All I need is to shut my door, go up my bed, curl up and read a book. I love to be up there because I can pretend I’m asleep when, really, I’m simply reading a book or surfing the internet through my phone.
place (**well, it’s not really a place, but whatever) where I catch my breath is (well, are) my blog. Whether it’s this blog or the other blog, my journal or just my phone, putting it all down on paper is how I catch a breath and remember who I am. Through writing, I get to let all my frustrations and happy experiences out. It’s the cheapest therapy I can ever have. All I need is to close the door behind me, sit down and take a deep breath. It keeps my sanity intact; keeps me from going all-Evil Queen on everyone else.
The last place (**erm, thing) that I can consider a sanctuary is my mind. I know I always over-think, but it helps me calm down, too. Sometimes, when I’m mad, or pissed, all I have to do is think about the ways I could vanquish the enemy. I think I have come up with dozens of stories about taking out the enemies and/or being with the one I love just by fantasizing about it, more than I could actually put it into writing. It’s something I’d like to believe to be a gift and not me being insane or a psycho.
While other people prefer to go away to rest and recuperate, all I need was a moment of silence and my bedroom door shut. Because just by doing so, I already am escaping the shittiness of it all without having the need to orb myself out of this world.