Saturday, August 3, 2013

A Place Like This

Only in a place like this, you catch yourself eavesdrop on a man's conversation with the voices inside his head.
Making you feel a tad more sane, normal.

Three days.

My roomie was the most adorable optimistic junkie.
One night, lounging with our pals, she spoke of her plush elephant she snuggles every night. A gift from her 4-year-old daughter, given as she was taken away by CPS. While speaking of this, still she smiled

Next door was my partner in crime.
We were basically Bonnie and Clyde of the place. Getting yelled at over the speaker systems.
"'Bonnie and Clyde', please stop dancing as if you're in West Side Story and proceed to Room 1." 
I loved latching onto his arm waiting to be swung.
I was sliding, flying, skating across the corridor.

Occasionally passing in the halls, the young pregnant girl.
Proud to have spoke up, I informed her God didn't create her to raise a baby (as others constantly told her). Especially not with a deadbeat father who's family harasses her, no home, job, or hope. 

The leprechaun.
Us the only gingers, clicking our heels while jumping in the air.
We created smiles, while annoying few staff members.

Sitting in Room 2, "Clyde" and I watched an enthusiastic older man playing his keyboard on the beach. Of course, this beautiful ocean sunset scene was in reality a green screen.
We laughed, enjoyed every minute of his performance.

Once decided to join in on a conversation between the leprechaun, and the middle-aged woman I knew nothing of.
We spoke for the first time.
With her raspy voice, she had told me that she was an Angel.

Only in a place like this do you question the thought of whether or not you met an Angel. 
Questioning her sanity, along with mine.

Lurking the halls was the most depressed pessimistic junkie
Scrawny with muscle replacing fat. Rather attractive, appears as if he'd never shot up dope. Appearing physically healthy yet mentally damaged.
Gauze and medical wrap secured both wrists. Hiding the stitched slashes. He took off his bandages, once. Leaving me staring at something that had just weeks before filled his girlfriends tub with blood.
His motto, "there's no way out"
What does this mean? 
Questioned many times, he left us with no answer.
Simply "there's just no way out"
Curious? Ask him yourself, if he's still around.

Only in a place like this, you make friends with those you can feel death lurking upon.

Only in a place like this, you have the time of your life, yet still indescribably eager to leave.

Only in a place like this, you know these friends surrounding you like'll never speak to again.

You'll never forget a place like this.


  1. Oh my goodness I just read your incredibly sweet comment. Of course yu can use some photos! Thank you so much.