I shut my eyes as my mind opened. I sat down in the single wooden chair in the sterile, white space : my safe space

I didn't know why that was my safe space, many people's were forest clearings, or tropical beaches, yet I chose emptiness.

Maybe it was because I had no imagination. It was probably because I have a cluttered mind. When I step into my vault, I feel free. The walls keeping me away from the overflowing drawers of things that go on in my mind.

Everyone thinks that you should store things in your vault. I disagree. Why should I clutter up my space? Why ruin the nothingness? The absence of life is a beautiful sight. Nothing can interfere with me or my thoughts.

No one is telling me how to behave or what to do. I can be myself.

What's really sad is that sometimes, the only way for me to be happy is that I have to leave the world, shut out the noise and sit in my wooden chair.

I hear a knock on the door, someone wants to talk to me. I zip back to reality and instantly everything rushed back to me as if a million callers have phoned into my radio station.

"Why aren't you paying attention?" the knocker asks.

"Sorry, just a bit tired,"