hidden memories.

Running away to different cities, I tell no one, not even my family.

A weekend, a few days, just over night – anything to escape one reality and live out another, even if just for a blink.

Here, no one knows me.

I have no responsibilities, nowhere to be, no appearance to keep up – here, I cannot be recognized.

It may seem sad, to the untrained eye, when you see me sitting alone at the cinema, slushy in one hand, popcorn in the other, and snacks tucked under my arm, but pity not. Just like the single parents, over-worked interns, or child prodigies, I am enjoying myself so much in this moment, it is I who pities you.

I am happy for this moment of peace, vacant from expectations. I welcome my deafened mind and listen to the thoughts that are so often silenced by the banalities of day-to-day life. I will bring them alive here, by myself.

I have found my pure joy; in my darkest, longest pain, I have found my peace.

Another city, holding millions of my hidden memories, is evidence of a successful escape.