It was my 23rd year and I had yards of fabric running down my walls. It was decoration I thought.
I had almost nothing, just a bed on the floor and some clothes. 
My apartment had cracked walls, broken window panes and no ventilation.
But it was mine. And to me, it was perfect.   
I taped magazine cut outs on the walls and hung Christmas lights from the ceiling, 
and at night if I felt trapped, I could sit outside and watch people walk by in the alley behind my building or look up at the stars from the wooden stairs at the end of the shared hallway.

Many people find their escape in books, some online or in television. For me, I find it is best to run away for a little while. 
I read somewhere once “People will kill you over time. And the way they’ll kill you is with small phrases like, ‘Be Realistic.’”
We are all warriors, and believing that we have to live in another person’sreality only wounds us.