My happy place... Well, me and happy places go back quite a bit. I have always had one, even as a child. When things where tough or sad or just all round gloomy, it was a place that I could always go back to. I'd keep a notebook and elaborate on the place, but it was always somewhere that I could physically go to, and connect with. Today, I have my happy place, and I tend not to elaborate on it anymore. It's just a place that I feel happy in, a place that only belongs to me. Here is my description.
It's quiet and soft; no one can hear me here. The breeze wafts back and forth from the window and a Yankee candle is burning on my desk, filling this room with a haunting but sweet smell. Light plays peekaboo on my wall and swings around to me, where I'm lying on my bed with a notebook. I can feel soft wisps of poetry flashing in my mind, and giggle as I capture them and place them on the page. Maybe it's dark, in which case I light multiple candles, so I have enough to see by. If I turned on the lights, it wouldn't feel as soft and gentle-instead, my eyesight would have to comply with the hard light, and I wouldn't be able to feel that sunset as realistically. I might be sitting in a soft, cosy bedroom, but my mind is elsewhere, with the characters of my story. They don't sit in a bedroom-They play around, stretching with my imagination and becoming all too real for me. I can feel their struggles, their hardships, their everything. Until someone calls me back to earth, I lie in my happy place, perfectly content with the world.
What is your happy place? Tell me in the comments below.