Swim away.

My step mom found out she had breast cancer today.
Explains why dad went to Taiwan.

Don't really know what to feel at the moment.
Don't really want to feel anything.
At least the holidays are here.
I can shut myself in the bathroom and just stare out the window for hours on end...

Imagination.
One of the most wonderful aspects of being a human.
Not the imagination where children become dinosaurs or animals.
Although crawling around pretending to have claws and sharp teeth were the best of times.
I'm talking about the imagination where you leave this god-forbidden place.
Leave all of it behind.
I always just sit propped up against the bathroom wall just staring outside the window.
Could say I feel as if I just melt.
Melt into the floor and float away into the ocean.
I feel as if I'm weightless.
Invincible.
Float away into a place where I feel just at home where I am.
Where my heart is settled, my soul is at peace with it's surroundings.
Where water just fills the gaps and light shines in the darkest of places.
All my questions answered and all my fears scared away.
No-one around me, just me, myself and I.
No thinking, no reminiscing, no reminders and deadlines.
No likes or dislikes.
No need to lean on something when I feel dizzy.
Guess I just want to swim away from my life for a while.
Just a while.

I'm in a deafening room with a hundred billion people all shouting to one another.
I need to find a room of my own.
File all these stupid thoughts away and re-join the rest.

Guess I just take these new set of challenges in the gut and just keep on walking.

"Life is just an hour-glass glued to the table"

Like a love letter but not.

Had a close friend ask me if everything was alright.
The only thing goin through my head was to lie or not.
Is it a sin to lie to a friend?
Is it a sin to lie all together?

I didn't know why I lied.
Didn't know why I just didn't tell him why and break down in the tears that have been waiting to be let out since sixth grade.
I don't see why I hold this all in.
Don't see why I let it get to me, erode my body, my soul.
"My life is your life" were the words that finally stuck us together.
For life is our promise.
For life it will be.
I never wanted to lie to you.
Never wanted to have to get the eye from you.
I know that you can see it in my eyes.
I know you can hear it in my voice.
But I can't, I just can't think about it at this moment.
I need the walks again.
I need to be able to run away again.
To paradise, to where ever makes me feel nice.
I can't stand the guilt of lieying to you.
Can't hold it from you much more.
You're like a lover, with stronger bonds.
Stronger promises and stronger histories together.
I promise I'll tell you in time.
When these dark days pass.
When I can welcome the lights behind these dark clouds.
Although times are tough, times are rough.
I can promise, that nothing will keep us from being together.
Brothers forever.

Luke, I know you can't read this.
Thats why I wrote this here.
I didn't mean to lie to you like that.
We've been best friends for so long and I can't stand having to lie to you about why I haven't been going to school for so long.
But I promise I'll tell you in time.
When these dark times are over.
I promise I'll open up to you like we used to.
Share everything and make sure you know whats going on.
I totally regret mechanically churning out those words to your face.
I didn't mean it to be like that.
I know you could tell in my eyes.
That I was avoiding having to answer truthfully.
We've been brothers for so long.
I know that we share our problems and get through it together.
But, I think this one is for myself.
I have to climb this mountain myself.
But once it's over, I'll explain why I did it.
Brothers forever bro.

TJ

Pessimism

Never in my life have I been thrust into a group of people.
Let alone a group of Christians.
But I totally underestimated everyone, I admit that.
These people that I've met since only a couple of months ago are amazing.
From people I meet for the first time to people Ive seen on several occasions.
It's amazing how nice these people are, how close they are to each other.
Kinda reminds me of how my mom used to be.

I can't say that I'm the most interesting of people.
I'm someone who has derailed and crashed through a life that used to be all green and beautiful.
Here I am, turning seventeen.
Smoking, drinking, doing nothing with my life.
TO be able to see myself from another pair of eyes would be a miracle.
Something of my dreams.
I want to be able to see what kind of effect I have on people.
I want to be a part of this world.

Just last year I thought I became someone I've always wanted to be.
Lots of friends, parties and the like..
But now that I take a good look at myself.
I see that there's something missing.
Something that's stopping myself from having the feeling of being satisfied with life at the end of the day.
I have a stable job with awesome people, I've met new people from a totally different side of life.
And yet there's this feeling of not being accomplished.
Not having anything to be proud of.
I'm a skinny average height asian guy that has a love for fish.
That's it?
That's all I am?
Why can't I be one of those people who inspire me every time I see them.
One of those people who leave you envious right after you leave.
Now I'm just being a narcissist.

Memories 2

1-A Taman Scotland...
I remember just breaking up with Kana and paying my way through to another trip back to Malaysia.
Just so I could take some of the nightmares away.
That it did.
Soon as I got off the taxi to stand in font of the steel automated door.
Instant feeling of being home just wraps around your whole body.
Like a warm blanket on a long cold day.
I remember having a swarm of people hugging me and asking millions of questions.
I felt almost like an alien.
Walking into the same old house, but being a completely different person.
Seven years older, seven years different...

The same guest room I've always stayed in on every visit.
Still there, untouched.
The sheets, exactly the same from seven years ago.
Sure there was a tiny bit of dust, but Min kept it exactly the same way.
I was surprised none of the little ones even went in there...
My cds still on the floor,
my novels still on the small bookshelf behind the bed.
Even the pictures of everyone were still wedged into the edges of the mirror.
How I've missed this place so much...

It all happened as if it were only a dream.
I had to hear something loud, wake myself up from this beautiful place.
I wanted it all to last forever.
The sound of bustling cars outside the fortified walls of the huge house.
The sound of the dogs barking at passers by.
The sound of the kids running around downstairs, and Victoria's radio playing new age chinese songs by who knows what their name is.
I remember standing there with my bags still on my shoulders and my cap still in my hands.
Just soaking it all in.
Tracy coming up behind me and giving me a warm hug.
I'll never forget what she said to me.
She said "It's been so long since this room has even been touched. Min didn't want to touch anything inside it...I used to stand just outside the door remembering how we used to make tents out of the blankets and read books with you and Victoria under the sheets. We've missed you, I'm so glad you're back..."
She made my heart break just in those few seconds.
As Tracy sat on the bed picking up comics I left lying around the bed.
I put my bags down and went around running my fingers along everything that used to be my way of life.
I guess I was trying to re-connect with the past.
I can't say I like change that much.
I love the way things were, and I wished things never changed.

That night, I opened the door to the balcony and realized what I've been missing so much.
The same balcony I used to always try and climb down from.
The balcony I completely took for granted.
The couches were still there, even my old story books were there. Jack and the Beanstalk...
It's so crazy how in seven years you completely forget everything, and just as you see everything from the years before, you start to realize just how much you've longed for it all to come back again.
I sat on the wooden rocking chair grandpa bought me when I was four, and I couldn't really say it was the right size anymore, but god the memories it brought back of grandpa were so happy.
The days before he left us all...
Swimming, playing with the dogs...long cars rides...

Now that they've moved to a condominium, no matter how conveinient it is.
I still long for that warm blanket of old memories to come back.
I remember re-exploring every single crack of the house, room by room.
Trying to savour the memories it brought back in each room.
The kitchen, with it's large glass front cupboards...
Grandma's room, with its smell of perfume and hair spray.
Victoria and Junior's room, pink curtains and lots of toys.
Tracy's room, cd's and dresses everywhere...
The computer room, with Uncle Jeffrey sitting on the same chair smoking those same cigarettes.
The piano room, with it's fridges and broken organ...guitars and a heap of old school books.
Seems like none of the kids wanted the past to leave...
The tiny room beside the kitchen where Uncle Jason used to keep his fish...maybe that's where I got my hobby from...
The bathroom, it's rough ceramic bathtub where I used to have bubble baths with Tracy and Victoria.
All these rooms inside this gigantic house pouring soul back into my body.
Giving me a reason to live for.

I'm so glad I'm going to see all my cousins again this year.
Driving past that old house isn't going to be pleasant.
But I guess life takes you places sometimes where you don't want to go.

I'll buy that house back...
I'll restore it back to exactly how it used to be...
I already know that everyone wants to live there again.
The loves,the losses,the memories....

Memories

Today has been a real mix of feelings.
It only seemed like yesterday when everything was going "according to plan."
I can't say much has gone wrong.
But the reminiscing has come back.
And the feelings are as strong as ever.
Was talking to Tracy couple minutes before,
the amount of things that change in one year is remarkeable.
My little cousin can talk now, other cousins have changes.
Heck their whole household has had at least some kind of change.
Makes me wonder, how long these memories will last for.
The memories I want to kepe forever.
The ones I look back at when times aren't so happy.
I wish I could go back to those times.
Even just to take in a lung full of what 1-A Taman Scotland used to smell like.
Before grandman sold it.
God I love that house.
Full of childhood memories....
TO be continued.

I knew it, I knew he was nothing but a rat. nothing but a dirty snivelling sewer rat.

All he is, is a leech.
Sucking the life out of everyone.
Reaping the rewards of everyone else's hard work.
He claims to have put "everything" into building up a business.
His last attempt to build a business.
Honestly, I think it's stupid.
Idiotic, hypocritical.
Just plain fucking stupid.
Sure, you say were out of money, you've been saying that for the past eight years.
But hey! instead of finding a stable job to put food on the table.
You apply for several loans of unimaginable amounts of money and decide to open up a business all by yourself?
Sure, you were a pretty good salesman back in the day.
But that was then, this is now.
It's bee over twenty years since you even touched the business side of life.
You've lost it, times have changed.
You have three kids, you have a house, you have responsibilities fucker.
Sure, Ritchie turned 22, sure Fi turned 20, sure I almost seventeen and i'm already workin my ass off.
I'm sick of you.
Sick of your face, sick of your dirty smirk, I just don't want to see your face, I don't want you anywhere near me.
Were paying for almost everything, so why the fuck are you here.
Can't you just take your bank loans and ridiculous credit card debts somewhere else?
Why do WE have to be the ones you run to when your card runs up thousands.
You come to me saying you've got a bill of 800 on your credit card,
and half of it was from paying my hospitality course for highschool.
Fine, I understand that.
I've already promised I'd pay it back, heck i've already started paying it back.
Almost three quarters of it to be exact.
You want how much from me and my sister and brother?
1700 is the final number.
and its due when? next week?
Fuck off. No really, just get the fuck out of here.
Don't call me your son.
Don't even say my name.
I'm your wife's son.
I don't even know how she put up with your shit.
I sure can't.
She probably would've lasted longer if it wasn't for you.
Get away from me.
You're nothing but shit.
Smash your face in if it wasn't for domestic assault charges.

One last time....

No one should deserve the death penalty.

Whether it be smuggling many kilo's of coke into a country.

Or being the man behind the chain saw massacre.

Sentencing someone to the death penalty.

Is also murder...

I've never witnessed someone being sentenced to death.

But I sure have seen someone slowly die while they lie there.

While they look at you with eyes showing fear that will never be explain mearly with words.

While they cannot move they're thoughts travel through your mind.

How ever much you want to try and scream out, burst into tears and leave the room.

You'll know that thats the only time you'll see them...alive.

The fear, that goes through someone.

Just before they die.

Cannot be felt anywhere else.

The tears that roll down their cheeks.

While watching the bright white ceiling.

Before it starts melting away.

Before the darkness consumes their vision.

She breaths hard.

Her breaths are hard and fast.

Like a dog panting from a whole hours running.

Her mouth slighty open.

Her chest expanding and shrinking while she takes those quick breaths.

Drawing her last breaths from her stomach.

You realise the breathing stops.

You see her stomach slowly go down.

And you hear that last groan.

Before her hands falls off the hospital bed.

From running up to her hospital room.

Greeting her with a huge hug while shes reading a book on her bed.

Thinking it was just a bad case of the flu.

To getting driven to the hospital with the only thought of mom being in the intensive care unit.

After a biopsy.

After being told your own mother has lung cancer.

That was spreading to her heart.

Fourteen nights of sleeping on a plastic chair beside that green bed.

Fourteen nights of hospital food and no sight of sun.

After those late night walks to see stars and breath fresh outside air.

Bringing her home from the hospital for her last days.

Injecting morphine into that small tube put into her veins.

Watching her stare at you.

Those eyes filled with frustration and excrutiating pain.

Sleeping beside her with nothing but a sleeping bag for two weeks.

After a month of watching your own mother suffer.

After two months of freshly discovered bad news given to you over and over again.

You realise you mother.

Who gave birth to you.

Who loved you and cared for you.

Who always looked at you with those loving eyes.

Who always held your hand and gently led you out of the rain.

The mother that walked you to tennis for the first time.

The mother who you always looked up to for advice, companionship and love.

Is gone, dead. How ever you want to call it.

She will never knock on your door and ask if your alright.

She will never slowly open the door, walk in and hold you in her arms.

While she asks you about your troubles.

While she sits there with you in her arms reassuring you.

While you confess.

The mother who rushed to the hospital.

To hold your hand after being hit by a car.

Gone.

I don't want pity, for what I have wrote there.

I just want all of you to know, my story.

Even the strongest get torned down

There are times when we fall to the ground.

Times when we actually feel the pain they talk about in stories.

There are situations when people let you down.

Somedays you wanna give up.

Because life is always so fu#ked up.

There are times when we've been hurt.

When we don't want to go on.

Even though we know we have to move on.

There are times when problems have no solutions.

When it hurts and theres other way to stop the pain.

But after all, what we don't die from we always gain.

Experiences make us special.

They make us unique.

Experience opens another option for us when we get into difficult times.

People have scars on their knees and arms.

People have scars on their faces and hands.

People have scars we can't see.

And when people finaly show those scars.

People don't understand.

Having scars puts us behind bars.

Because it reminds us of times we want to forget.

Times when we were down and out.

Times when we were hurt let down without a doubt.

Times when we lost people.

Times when we were feeble.
Most of the time we ave to ride through these pains.

And in the end, have so much knowledge to learn and gain.

Sometimes we breakdown.

Fall to the ground.

Times when we need someone but theres no one to be found.

Time never stops for us, time never helps us.

Time just keeps on going whether ure down or not.

No one lives a perfectly happy life.

We wish we would've done so many things, and we cry.

Even heroes die.

"Somedays I feel like shit, somedays I wanna quit and just be normal for a bit".

Mine own

...

Love- one word that drives us all to the corners of the world...

To find that one person, meant for them...

To spend their years staring in those same eyes...

To hold the hand that will never loose its power to mend all pains...

To hear that same voice that calms you through all thicks and thins...

Too bad theres no corners to the world...

And those eyes will keep changing...

That hand will come and go...

That voice will bring on new complications...

And love will hurt us all...

TJ

The never ending cycle that will soon lead to our own demise

510,072,000 kilometer surface area of our home planet.
There will never be peace on this beautiful planet.
Never will be love between all of it's inhabitants.
No matter how hard we try.
There will be people there to fuck it up.
Different beliefs and religions clashing, making each and everyone one of us enemies to another.
Trying to achieve world peace is impossible.
Deep inside, we all know it will never be achieved.
Yet, we still pursue the idea.
Wishing that one day the world will be an Eden of respect and trust.

Under the roofs of some six and a half billion people.
There will always be depression, illness and death.
Some are born into a world of starvation and plagues.
Some are put out into a world of crime and capital punishment.
Financial problems is the main source of trouble.
Both for poor and rich alike.
Struggling to pay off the mortgage and feed the kids.
Loaning money from banks and knowing you'll never be able to repay the already swollen trash bag of debt.
We blame each other for causing such unrest in the world.
And so we should.
The invention of currency and money was one of the best ideas in history.
Even so, this "money" has been the problem for every single soul on earth.
Everyone just wants to make money from everyone else.
It's how money was made.
Some want it more than others.
Some need it more than others.
What can we do.

The advance of technology and the human race has led to our own demise.
Japanese and Americans had developed the Nuclear Bomb.
Russians have recently invented the Vacuum bomb.
Two of the most deadliest forces in the human inventory of death and destruction.
America pushes for world peace, and yet tears up countries to look for guerillas.
Viet-kong back in the day threatened and slaughtered many innocent lives.
War has caused the human race to develop new and more destructive weapons.
Medicine will only go so far without aid from companies and organizations with the grasp of large sums of money.

Why in a world of beauty, love and opportunity, do we have battered hands and scared faces on children barely past the age of sixteen.
Why, in a planet of such proportion, do we have people slaughtering thousands of their own kind JUST to prove a point.
Thing is, all were trying to do is survive.
It's a harsh world because were all making it one.
It'll never be an Eden.
If god was our creator, he would certainly be the one to cut loose our damaging lifestyles.

This bores a hole in my soul.
Knowing that no matter how much I do.
I will never make a noticeable difference.
I love all of humanity, no matter how harsh of destructive.
We all have souls and feelings.
Were just trying to survive.
I wish luck and prosperity to those in need.
Love to the world.

TJ

Six feet from the edge

I can't believe I just let it leak out like that.
I know only a select few of you read this.
SO I might as well pour my heart and soul into this.
To make it clear why I'm always going for walks at night.
Why I hate my father.
Why Malaysia is so important to me.
Why I'm me.

My mother died when I was going through my last months of sixth grade.
Yes, my mother.
The one who gave birth to a 4 kilo, asian Tommy Junior Lee.
Jeannie Tan was my everything.
She was the one to pick me up when I fell.
The one to clean up my wounds and keep me company when I felt down.
Of course, at that time I never even brushed the thought of loosing her.
I never wanted to.
Those golden years every one labeled as primary school.
Yeah, those awesome years of catch and 50 cent Dim sims.
I had to end those "golden years" with the memory of my mother's hand slowly loosing grip of mine.
I graduated without a mother.
I lost the only thing that was keeping me cemented to the ground.
The only person I could run to, when the darkness consumed what daylight there was left in my room.
She was my mentor, my psychiatrist, my super-hero, my pillar of strength...my mother.
I remember every single passing second of her death.
I remember it as clearly as you can see your feet.
No child should ever go through that.
Never.
Ever.

I was lying beside my mother when she died.
In that white, disinfected room with the whirring of life support machines and what not.
I promised myself that I wouldn't let it happen.
I promised myself that things would get better.
My own father lied to me that she was getting better.
When those machines went off screeching and beeping.
I knew it was it.
They turned it off.
Why did they turn it off.
Why did they have to let me see it.
Why didn't I run away.
She looked at me.
She was gasping for air.
She was dying...
I was panicking, all those weeks of promising myself this wouldn't happen.
The tears just came.
When she stopped breathing,
and her hand slid away from mine.
That was when I ran to the seats outside and cried.
That was when my whole life was turned upside down and inside out.
That was the start of my life...

After that, my whole life has been a living hell.
Day after day, I added layers to this mask I put on when I talked to people.
This mask was the only thing that kept all those dreadful past memories away from people.
I've never let go of it.
I never plan to.
Not once, not ever.
The only time I am truly myself.
Is when I'm with myself.
Alone
That's what those walks are for.
To take off that mask and rub the crusty remains of tears off my face.
When my mom died, when that mask was made.
That was when I made a pact to myself.
I promise never to let people know what was going on in my head.
Deep inside, I was brooding.
I was continously thinking.
There are no resolutions to this.
There never will be.
No shrink will ever cure me.
I won't let them.
This mask, this beautiful invention of mine.
It's the only thing I have thats keeping me sane.
I feel comfortable hiding behind it.
No one knows its there.
No one has ever tried to look past it.
They say the eyes are the windows to the soul.
Maybe my eyes are black for a reason.

I'm a damaged character.
I always will be,
I still get along with people.
I still have friends.
And if having a mask is the only way to keep this life I have.
Then so be it.
This mask covers up the scars of my past.
Those scars will never heal.
They will never vanish into thin air.
I don't expect them to.

Many times I've told myself that there would be a rainbow after the gloomy rain.
Seems like my life is just a long dark tunnel and I'm feeling my way through.
There isn't light at the end of it.
There never will be.

Don't pity me,
Don't sympathize,
Don't even try and understand me.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not denying my past.
I'm not denying my identity.
I'm just trying to live life without people having to think about what they say before they talk to me.
I just want people to talk to me and not realise what a terrible and damaged person I am.
I'm not into long fringes and black clothing.
I'm not into screamo music and cutting myself.
I express myself in a way that no one understands.
I like it that way.

Will I write more?




Tommy Lee Junior
Born 6th July
Lost his mother on that cold rainy night.

Unnamed

Summer came and gone.
It was the vacations of vacations.
I've never gotten over having the time of my life sitting atop a 20 story building.
Staring at the cloudy sky, the steady stream of light shining through.
Beer in one hand.
Cigarette in the other.
My earphones lightly sending melodies and sounds of calm and slow joy through my ears and veins.
Times goes by and my month of bliss was up.
My time of bliss was quickly coming to an end.

Nothing perfect ever lasts.

Autumn came and past,
Thoughts of never being able to sit atop of what seemed a magical place.
A place of calm, serenity.
Pure heaven to the mind, body and soul.
Autumn was a confusing time for me.
I went through several mildly challenging moments.
I still came through...
Although there were times I wish I hadn't.

The human brain, pure genius.
Thanks father evolution.

Winter comes,
Dreading the day I turn sixteen.
Every year to my age just means more responsibilities.
More to worry about, more to take care of.
The stars are doing what they do best.
The moon, with it's enchanting iridescent glow.
The combination mixed in with gentle chilly breezes and the sounds of night.
Seems to take the weight of the world off my shoulders as long as I was lying out on my driveway.
Some call me quiet,
Some call me energetic.
I like my quiet moments.

Where does it all go.

Spring will soon put life into the withered plants and flowers.
Revive the hearts that died in the gloom of winter.
Love will find a select few of us.
It always does.
September is just another month to most.
I would've been a landmark moment for me.
Points taken off,
Now it's just another month of silent nights and a head full of impossible chances.
October will follow.
The eighth month of the year.
In all it's glory, it really has nothing to offer me.
Year after year.
October has never had a surprise for me.

Come November,
I await the thoughts and memories of sitting atop that twenty story building once more.


Where does the time go.
Spent waiting and wishing.

Feeling small

really haven't written anything worth while here for ...a bit.
I really can't say much about me.
Nothings changed at all.
Maybe lost track a bit with the way I act and the way I feel.
But overall, still nostalgic and living in the past.

I've been really lazy with classes and school in general.
I even wagged Food Tech a couple of times...
Thats gotta tell you something...
I guess what I'm really trying to say is...
I really don't know what I'm living for anymore,
I've been single and I'm actually enjoying what it has to offer.
Although, there are times when I just needed someone to hug and fall asleep with.
Forget the past, forget the present, forget the troubles the future will bring.

A friend told me to write down what I feel,
to acknowledge what I'm going through and how to get through it.
Well, here it goes..

I feel...lost, without a path. As though my train has just derailed but is still crashing through what was beautiful scenery.
I feel...useless, not needed. Why am I here? I am not needed, I am not wanted here...I have no use, no...meaning or reason.
I feel scared....scared of what is to become of me, although I have the power to change all of it, I don't have the will to change. I have nothing and no-one to change for.
I feel...like I'm drowning.

I can't breath, yet I'm still sitting in this room my own brain created. Filled with poisonous smoke, filling my lungs with thoughts of wanting to run away, thoughts of wanting to escape to a place where nothing of my past could follow.
I'm burying myself in work and my beloved hobby, as though I'm scared of facing the life I have to live.
The friends I used to love hanging out with, are now distant, because of me.
Because of what I'm scared to do, accept that I'm alone?
Accept the facts surrounding me?
The skinny, useless, brainless, lonely nobody that I am?
Why can't I just take it like a man and keep going.
Why does this always have to chase up to me.

I've hit rock bottom and the rocks and soil I've kicked up on the way down has finally buried me alive.
I feel as though I'm just a soul drifting along this world with nothing else to do but hinder everyone else's life.
I'm going to stop.
Because this whole damned space is just about me.
What about everyone else.

This little heaven of mine

I loved the way the humid, almost lukewarm wind would brush past my face, play with my hair like grass in the wind.
I loved the way the beach chair would creak silently every time I reclined and sighed.
The cold beer in my hand, slowly refreshing my senses. Yet at the same time taking me into a state of trance in tiny minuscule steps.
The sun, threatening to scorch my feet on the rough swamp green surface of that wonderful rooftop, or the moon, peeking through the thin mist that always seemed to dance around it in that part of the world.
The smell of moisture in the air, food from the stalls nearby, sounds of the beach below.
I really can't point out what that place makes me feel.
It's a feeling of floating just above the ground, feeling weightless yet almost having all the power in the world.
Being able to look over the sides and peer twenty floors down.
Observing the busy atmosphere of the food stalls, night markets and congested two lane intersections.
Yet on the other side, the calm dark waters of the sea.
The ever gentle moon casting it's wisps of light to the tips of each small wave.

To have found that place was a stroke of luck.
I don't regret a millisecond of it.
It's always a chore to peel myself from the red blue and yellow beach chair riddled with rust and age, to leave that heaven, trapped in such a small space.
There are no walls, no ceiling, nothing but a couple of vents and two taller extensions cradling gigantic cubes of water storage containers.
I loved it there, sitting, staring, drinking, smoking.
No judgments were made there,
no decisions or conclusions.
Just thoughts of serenity and my love for such boundless seclusion.
It's my long lost hiding place.
It'll never leave, and I'll never forget about it.
It's a place in the world where my fears and mistakes cannot follow.
Where my past follows each silent barefooted step of mine like a shadow, speaking not a word, restricted from casting it's doubts by this calm serenity.
This little heaven of mine.

TJ