To breathe

I am a drug addict.

My hair brushes on the soft pillow that reminds me of my childhood fantasy of living in a cotton candy world.

Shutting myself in complete darkness, I drug myself every night with the familiar scent of dry detergent mixed with the lemon taste of my body shampoo. Protected under my blanket and lock doors, I know that nothing can hurt me here.

I am high in darkness.

My imagination runs wild while I leave my body and escape into the pink cotton candy world.I have became the ‘blanket mummy’ whereby no wind or light can evade my private space.

Nothing is going to harm me here… I am completely safe… until my survival kit, oxygen, runs up and the prospect of me killing my life caught up with me.

I gasp for air. I struggle to let go.

Finally, I give in. I push off my protective layer and face the naked world.

I am back in the dark bedroom along Swanston Street, Melbourne.

Like a drug addict who finally know how honest and fresh one can feel for being clean, I look on to the abandon Melbourne city which continues to shine despite an obvious absence of appreciating soul.

The softness of my pillow remains the same, the lights in my room are still off. I am still surrounded by darkness. ..

But this time, I have allowed the Melbourne wind that squeezes through the holes in my window to kiss my skin and the street lights that find its way to my room to comfort me.

All of a sudden- in the same bed, at the same room, I realize that I am no longer alone.

Instead of drugging myself in an artificial world with limited supply of survival tools, I revealed myself to the surroundings and was rewarded with comfort and unlimited supply of oxygen.

This time I am not fully ‘protected’.

When the sun rise and the disturbing morning blaze found a way into my room, I will be forced awake. But that will not be the end of the world.

I still can breathe.

That’s the beauty of being open to others and clean to oneself.

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