I had been playing a part or ‘the part’ my whole life and knew no other way. Except nowadays, I’m actively aware of the fractures that have torn the identity of ‘me’ into a number of sub-characters: Happy Me, Sad Me, Agitated Me, Cunning Me, Heroic Me, Angelic Me, and so on. I have finally wisened up to my roller-coaster state of mind as my attention frequently shifts towards another mode of thinking in a neighbouring zone.

When I have a problem or see a challenge, which could be any type of relationship breakdown, a program overload or a byproduct from life, and I fail to address it sufficiently, I escape one fragment of my mind by moving and annexing my attention straight into and under another one. In a well-crafted lifetime pattern, I would always find a convenient way to flee the pressure from the seized cogs in one dense mental zone, settling instead into an area with far less immediate disruption on my nervous system. This desperate form of mental road-tripping became famously known as ‘my escape’. But not long after each trip, my problems ultimately ordered me back out of my comfort zone to face the initial cause that threw things out of whack.

While existing in my sanctuary, I would happily extend my stay for as long as I could, ignoring any orders while navigating into other closely related systems of fruitful thought. I would drift further into the daze until my visa expired and that dreadful negative space was once again before me. The truth is, it became a struggle to find any medium-to-long-term escape unless I was under the influence of drugs or alcohol.

Rather than continue facing the challenges dealt by my big bad world, I’d struggle with myself and end up saying, “let’s postpone it one more time”, while journeying off into another land to indulge in my favourite itinerary.