I'm having difficulty leaving it all behind.  Do I get up and walk or do I stay like I am now, my body so atune to the position its sitting in that even the slightest movement makes my heart pump a little stronger and a loathing anticipation take over.  I'm nothing, if not a contradiction.

Teenage voices carry on the breeze, which squeezes its way through my 'just open the right amount' windows.  They're from the school just across the road, hidden beyond a great stone wall.  If it weren't for the wall, I could not live here.  Everything behind it speaks of failure and of a past and future I no longer wish to contemplate.

Follow the wall, then the dash of coloured houses to the sea and I begin to breathe.  I can see the vastness of blue, an escape, if only I could make it there from where I am right now.  The promise of its healing drives me to move, stretch my legs, across the carpeted floor.  It is also blue and I imagine the sensation of it around me, as I dive for the first time, uninhibited by my fears, into its dark undertones.

Yet here I am, unmoved, unable to move, as static as I've ever been.  I can not say I am unhappy.  This is a happy place I inhabit.  But, as the days and months unfold, I must find my footing or get lost in the trample of everyone else's.