I spend too much time on facebook. I scroll up and down when I can’t sleep, when I want to delay getting out of bed, when I eat out by myself – not to seem to be a maniac with nothing to do. I open articles I want to read in new tabs never to come back to them, and sometimes I scroll through profiles of people I haven’t seen for years. Going through the den of walls of old friends who all seem to have their shit much more together than me, I once went through the wall of my very own. To my surprise, the person I saw there was very much not the person in whose head I live and who I would sometimes like to run away from.
I used to be an adventurous child. The very first time I got grounded, I got grounded for wandering off to explore. I was five, back in the days when kids used to spend their afternoons playing outside. There was a playground where I was allowed to go to, another playground, a little further away, where I wasn’t, and there was the rest of the town which was completely off limits – so off limits that it went without mention.