The Box.

My box, is where I retreat when my playground has been invaded and I just need to recover from a few heavy blows, and when I get to that space I find that it is easier to stay in there, where its familiar cold walls bring a peculiar sense of comfort. Familiar cold walls are better than being showered with cold water on an already cold day. I can take a bit of this and a bit of that but what I cannot take is constant repetitive blows, I guess that’s why I always find myself retreating to my box, no stress, no drama, no bombs hidden in the rich fertile soil on which my garden remains abundant, just four very familiar, pigment deprived, walls from which I find the weirdest most random sense of comfort.

We all have a box, some people have a balloon, but we all retreat somewhere (who the hell stands in the middle of a war zone anyway) and the trouble has never been getting in, it’s getting out and overcoming the battle that you’re faced with, but one can only do that with a whole lot of ammo and the energy to actually partake in this war. The mistake most of us make is limp our way around this space of unhappiness rather than finding a way to get out of it, or at least recover from the set back and leave fully ready to overcome it, whatever it may be.

Remind yourself why you retreated there in the first place, not to live there but to get back on your wagon and off you should go. Easier said than done – trust me I know, we have all been there but nothing has the right to claim the time of your life, setting you back and disabling you from living your life to the fullest.

Life isn’t fair – deal with it.
Society will never hold your hand – God gave you two.

I am a staunch believer in fighting for my happiness and being my own knight in shining armor, and so I shall conquer many more battles because I am more than a box – believe that!!

The queen that shall always reign supreme, Lucy.

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