Once all is put aside and the dashing move made, I’m now back in the zone. Just what problems, exactly? Because, whatever they were, they’re finally behind as I’ve clocked off for a much deserved and anticipated break.
Here, within my annex, I’ve escaped nature’s impositions by successfully projecting enough distraction to keep me satisfied and relieved. Fortunately, I’ve sought out and harvested ample ‘artificial space’ by refining my memory, and now the clutter is almost non-existent (in that world of mental existence).
It’s about time I fill my world with perfect space again. Or at least my perception of it, which is all that counts.
As an Escape Artist, my thoughts have dug a pathway which seemingly leads to my freedom. By routinely massaging my senses at the precise point, they trigger the override I need to shake my heaviness away in order to find a more tranquil space. Unfortunately, that freedom is only ever short lived, and I end up back in a cage once more.
A Traditional Remedy Creates a Buffer Around My Problems
I do love my lighter or floatier fragments. But obviously, who wouldn’t?