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A gentle breeze greets me at the front of the gate of The Great Hall. An old friend of mine when I'm weak and weary.

I remember this path to The Great Hall. I remember the trees, how it's trunk penetrates the hardest concrete, and how the roots span for miles in search for water. I remember the black spider that makes it nest patiently, string by string.

I remember how I struggle to make ends meet. When I have nothing and cried silently behind the door, without anyone knows about it.

I remember how I run from reality by constructing the world I see fit in my mind. My own white space where I can be safe from anything, or from anyone. So that when I talk to people, they won't see me frail. Not a crack.

But I'm afraid my time has come, to reconstruct my white space. Moving the canoe to someplace else, but never forgetting the big great tree by the lake.

A captain goes down with the ship. Everyone has leave the ship and arrived safely on land, but my ship is sinking. And yet, I can't be more proud of how everything works in the end.

10 years ago, I leave my day job and embark on a mission: to create a place where people can be better version of themselves. A workplace that doubles as a mentoring place, that appreciates its team and not following the path of others. Today, I am proud to say that I have successfully done that. Not a perfect one, but my goal turns out to be achieved.

Even though it's sinking, it's achieved its goal.

It's a calm night filled with starry stars. No cloud, no storm. Only me, the sinking ship, and the stars.

The Great Hall awaits me. There I'll be resting for awhile, asking for Universe's permission to continue my journey. As one Jack Sparrow? Or as Baby Doll? I have no idea. The only thing I know is that The Great Hall awaits, and I must go.


Photo by Masaaki Komori

Folie

by Folie

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