I realised that no room is empty enough for me. But when I write I can build myself a truly empty room and here I have solace. I can be alone with my thoughts for a second and be whoever I want to be without worrying about the rules of the world.
Once when I tried to ask for help by trying to harm myself, someone asked me "Are you still a kid? Do you think we are playing around here?" Well, yes. I think I never matured into an adult. I kept playing.
Like an abandoned child, I keep looking for adults who would sit with me and see how beautiful my fantasy world is. And what if we could somehow make it a reality? A world where someone actually loves you for who you are and not who they want you to be. A world where you can sing when you want, paint when you want and write when you feel like it. A world where no one will come and tell you that's not important or that's not what "fun" is supposed to be.
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