There's one place in the world I always find my escape. My old hammock keeps me safe from all that consists of my life and all that I want to shut out of it. The feel of the worn ropes cradling my limp body makes me feel as if I'm home within myself. It doesn't matter whether it's snow or a summer breeze on my face, as long as I can feel myself safely swaying and look up at the endless nothing of the tree overhead. Branches stretch up directly over my head as they reach for the sky. No matter how much time passes, they'll never reach the clouds and yet that's alright. Birds come and go, leaves fall as they may, and nothing else matters. Life doesn't exist outside of my hammock. I am timeless as long as I lay here. I have no age, I have no gender, I have no worries, I have nothing to my name as long as I'm here. Nothing can phase me for these five, maybe ten perfect minutes. It's when I lay in my hammock that I am truly myself and no one at the same time.
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