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Tuesday, 14 August 2012

[ ..goes into.. ]

The other day I was sitting quietly at work (procrastinating, as usual) and suddenly I remember how I used to build a fort in my parents' room with blankets and pillows. Well, I didn't call it a 'fort' back then. It's mostly a camp.

When I was a kid, the age gap between my siblings and I were a little too far apart, therefore, I was the only kid in my house who had to play alone. I used to play with my brother a lot when I was a child but he's very abusive (mentally and physically). I don't like playing with my neighbours either because they were all Chinese-educated, I couldn't relate to them at all. Well, I rarely step out of the house anyway. Nothing much changed, eh?

Okay, back to the 'fort' or camp. I don't know. I don't know why this memory crops up so suddenly. But it makes me smile, mainly because it felt safe and quiet in the camp. Like, nothing bad will ever happen. As long as I stay in the camp, I'll be safe and comfortable with my soft toys.

For months I build this camp every single night and tear everything down every morning. It wasn't a chore back then. It was adventurous. I imagined that I had to move around like a nomad every single night, so I had to tear down the camp every morning and leave for the next destination. Then, at night I'll build a camp to sleep on and also to shelter myself from the weather/animals, which pretty much translates to - sheltering myself from the cold air conditioning and annoying human beings such as my siblings, who are basically sadistic bullies.

Every night I couldn't wait to build my camp. I will finish my dinner, do my schoolwork and watch the tv asap, so I can enter my safe and happy world.

And when I finished building my camp, I will lay down on the makeshift bed underneath the huge blanket serving as my camp and do nothing.

I don't play games or do anything special in the camp. I just lay down there, hugging my smelly pillow and look at the blanket above me. It was just really comfortable.

What I love most is that, it was really quiet in the camp. That's what I love most my entire life. I never had a room to myself since I was a child, I only got my own room recently. So, I never had the chance to stay away from my incredibly noisy family.

I could only stay in my parents room but still, I can hear their voices through the door.

The camp saved me from all the voices and noises. It was very vacuumed in there and I can barely hear anything beyond the room door. It was my sacred sanctuary to achieved zen amidst the chaotic environment.

I wished I could go back to the camp now. I wish I could stay in there forever. Well, not forever but at times, I really just want to live in a soundless space.

I wish I have somewhere to hide now.

:: stitched on` ::*|17:49|

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:: ..it is me.. ::
Ailurophile. Irascible. Desultory. Furtive.


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