The Most Relaxing Place
My Private Bubble.
In one’s life, humans always seeks for somewhere he can feel calm and relaxing as a getaway place. For someone, it could be his bedroom. For another one, it could be the beach. And, for some others, it could be Paris. All of those used to be where I thought I relaxed myself most, but surprisingly often times they bore me. The only place that I have been visiting very often and yet never disappoint me is my own mind as it is no-place attachment, present, and the most amazingly beautiful. ! After waking and doing my daily routine, I gather myself, leave my dormitory, and starting walking to class. During weekdays, my mind seems to be like a cement path. Somewhere of it is rough and broken, and somewhere is smooth and stable. Then, my mind starts to be filled of uninvited guests -- a big noisy and annoying crowd flowing like a water towards somewhere of his own. After ten minute of a journey, my mind starts to turn into a not-so-big or sosmall square pale room decorated with a messy whiteboard and almost bald-head robot wearing a tie and black shiny leather shoes. Or, on the weekend, my mind changes itself to a three seater, brown, wool sofa. On it, there are three big black and white cushions resting themselves against the backrest, and three smaller cushions snuggling up with those bigger one. Standing behind the sofa is one huge ceiling-to-floor window, made of oak wood carved as a picture frame and painted white. Accompanying both sides of the sofa are bookshelves. As simple as eyes see things, my mind is no place in particular as it is where I go, and where I am. ! My mind is also in love with the past and the future. Like, when I sit in class forced by the duty of being student, I turn the page of Plato’s Dialogue, and listen to translation from madman to human language. My mind is drown under the black tiny Cordia New letters typed the conversation between Uthypho and Socrates. Then, my mind travels around. As a scientific shown that people is
In one’s life, humans always seeks for somewhere he can feel calm and relaxing as a getaway place. For someone, it could be his bedroom. For another one, it could be the beach. And, for some others, it could be Paris. All of those used to be where I thought I relaxed myself most, but surprisingly often times they bore me. The only place that I have been visiting very often and yet never disappoint me is my own mind as it is no-place attachment, present, and the most amazingly beautiful. ! After waking and doing my daily routine, I gather myself, leave my dormitory, and starting walking to class. During weekdays, my mind seems to be like a cement path. Somewhere of it is rough and broken, and somewhere is smooth and stable. Then, my mind starts to be filled of uninvited guests -- a big noisy and annoying crowd flowing like a water towards somewhere of his own. After ten minute of a journey, my mind starts to turn into a not-so-big or sosmall square pale room decorated with a messy whiteboard and almost bald-head robot wearing a tie and black shiny leather shoes. Or, on the weekend, my mind changes itself to a three seater, brown, wool sofa. On it, there are three big black and white cushions resting themselves against the backrest, and three smaller cushions snuggling up with those bigger one. Standing behind the sofa is one huge ceiling-to-floor window, made of oak wood carved as a picture frame and painted white. Accompanying both sides of the sofa are bookshelves. As simple as eyes see things, my mind is no place in particular as it is where I go, and where I am. ! My mind is also in love with the past and the future. Like, when I sit in class forced by the duty of being student, I turn the page of Plato’s Dialogue, and listen to translation from madman to human language. My mind is drown under the black tiny Cordia New letters typed the conversation between Uthypho and Socrates. Then, my mind travels around. As a scientific shown that people is