Dense dense entry

*taps finger on table*

Darn, the scribbled entry on the bus doesn't make practical reading sense. I gaze at it and wonder at the vague vague words that I do understand in an odd kind of way, but they don't say anything much to anyone else, I think, other than indicating that I'm an awfully spaced-out creature sometimes.

What do you think when you're alone with your thoughts sometimes? When no one is around, when you draw into your own inner world, and the outside world lapses into a misty silence that ceases to matter?

I remember those hour long lunches I had by myself on my previous temp job, when my lunch hour often had to be seperate from the rest because I was the only person covering my scope of duties. Heading out alone, eating alone, walking alone, and watching the world go by, this independent being whose existence had no relation whatsoever to the many people that pass you by.

(With what enthusiasm and cheer I had picked up every phonecall "Hello, good morning!" during my working hours there then, for 10 seconds of human communication that breaks the monotony of non-stop work, and how every message to the handphone had me smiling so, and how I looked forward to Thursdays, where Peggy the accountant comes to occupy the seat behind mine, and we can talk for ages and ages...)

But I digress. Anyhow, it was one of those long lunch hours that I started to wonder if every person had an inner world that he or she could draw him or herself into, this world that exists as a construct of thoughts and feelings, this world, this sanctuary that you withdraw into when you need to be by yourself, when you reflect, when you want a timeout from this world of bustling activities.

It's almost like a Quizilla question. "WHAT IS YOUR INNER WORLD? (PICTURES INCLUDED!)"

What would this world of yours look like, if you were to draw a picture of it? Would it be a place, perhaps? An imaginary lakeside and a tall tree with drooping branches of leaves that brush against the water? A bare room, with white walls and ceiling and floor? A large cavern, that reaches deep deep within, shadowy and grey, with rocky edges that glint with reflected moonlight? A sunlit meadow, an endless stretch of long grass that sway in the breeze?

That kinda place you would imagine that you retreat to think, a place inaccessible from the world.

I imagined my place (and I had a darn lot of time to imagine then, trust me) to be a shady forest clearing, with a waterfall by the side, rushing water tumbling into a pool making a constant, lulling whish-whoosh, where the trees will rustle in the breeze, where the sunlight will peek through the foilage and leave dapples of sun rays on the ground, where the streaming water glints in random places the reflected rays. When it rains I draw into a cavern, a dim glittering cave with a high high ceiling, that echoes away when you hum a tune. Moonlight comes in at an angle, and a trickle of steam runs from a corner into a quiet underground pool.

An inner world of thought visualised, a little imagined sanctuary part of myself (though, when you think back again, there usually isn't much luxury of time to construct background images to house your thoughts -_-) Otherwise it is just a misty haze of the outer world as you slip into the liminal realm between reality and imagination.

Well. Just a very random (albeit rather elaborate) thought =) (which does not occur too frequently, don't worry) What would your inner world be like?


(Pardon the density... it is difficult to edit abstract thoughts into digestable text that serves a purpose, and even I wonder at the randomness of this pattern of thoughts sometimes)