my own fortress of solitude

there's moments when things get a little too dicey. where the voices
in my head and spirit get too accustomed to thinking that i prefer to
listen to them more than those familiar to me. especially when they
are laced with the residue of regrets and other toxins that need to be
removed from the body. in those moments, i need escape. and as
much as i'd like to be able to just hop a plane and vanish into the
midst of some tropical landscape, i'm not exactly there just yet. but
what i do have is something i think we all need to realize, create if
we don't have it and revisit every so often.

if you've ever read comics, you know all about Superman and his
hideaway, his home away from home. his fortress of solitude. he
carved it out of a glacial plateau in the Arctic and kept all of his
treasures, relics and reminders of Krypton there. for me, it's not as
secluded. and the only thing i keep there are memories and past
breaths. tears shed for various reasons. it's a place where some of
my best writing saw fit to leave my blood and marry a page. it's a
little spot people pass all the time and think nothing of. nothing
secret about it. it's so much a part of the landscape that you'd be
forgiven in forgetting it was there. but that's where i go. usually
when it's very quiet, either early in the morning as dawn begins
to walk or at night when everything's asleep but dreams. i sit and
hear the rush of cars zipping by. i let the breeze speak and tell me
what it is i need to hear, even if i don't want to hear it. i've been
here when i had trouble in school, sadness over a woman, or
just plain felt despondent. i work the most important magic here;
the magic of self-determination.

so, i hope that in reading this, you recognize your own fortress
of solitude. realize that it's necessary sometimes to have. and if
you need to create one, do so promptly and faithfully. because
we all need a home away from homes that are familiar.