In one’s life. worlds ever seeks for someplace he can experience unagitated and loosen uping as a getaway topographic point. For person. it could be his sleeping room. For another one. it could be the beach. And. for some others. it could be Paris. All of those used to be where I thought I relaxed myself most. but surprisingly frequently times they bore me. The lone topographic point that I have been sing really frequently and yet ne’er let down me is my ain head as it is no-place fond regard. present. and the most surprisingly beautiful. ! After waking and making my day-to-day modus operandi. I gather myself. go forth my residence hall. and get downing walking to category. During weekdays. my head seems to be like a cement way. Somewhere of it is unsmooth and broken. and someplace is smooth and stable. Then. my head starts to be ?lled of uninvited invitees — a large noisy and raging crowd ?owing like a H2O towards somewhere of his ain. After 10 minute of a journey. my head starts to turn into a not-so-big or sosmall square pale room decorated with a mussy whiteboard and about bald-head automaton have oning a tie and black shiny leather places.
Or. on the weekend. my head alterations itself to a three seater. brown. wool couch. On it. there are three large black and white shock absorbers resting themselves against the backrest. and three smaller shock absorbers cuddling up with those bigger one. Standing behind the couch is one immense ceiling-to-?oor window. made of oak wood carved as a image frame and painted white. Attach toing both sides of the couch are bookshelves. Equally simple as eyes see things. my head is no topographic point in peculiar as it is where I go. and where I am. ! My head is besides in love with the yesteryear and the hereafter. Like. when I sit in category forced by the responsibility of being pupil. I turn the page of Plato’s Dialogue. and listen to interlingual rendition from lunatic to human linguistic communication. My head is drown under the black bantam Cordia New letters typed the conversation between Uthypho and Socrates. Then. my head travels around.
As a scienti?c shown that people is usually able to absorb deadening information attentively for one and a half hr upper limit. after that the encephalon will be distracted or lost. Undoubtedly. my head displacements to tomorrow. to the approaching twenty-four hours. I dream of topographic points I have ne’er been. For case. Japan where it has girls with to the full and thick do up faces. South Africa where elephants and zebras are still running to each other. or Greece where I can ever ?nd the hoarded wealth of cognition and art. In contrary. while I am basking myself on the favourite window couch. and listening to the music. or reading a Nicholas Sparks’s novel. my head can still flim-flam me by traveling back in clip and ?ashing some old and dull memories. To represent. my heads frequently ?ashes a memory of my old house where I was born and exhausted half of my life at that place. I can retrieve an guiltless miss who owned a sleeping room which was painted pink and decorated with everything which is doltishly intolerable pink.
I am ever amazed about the fact of how the encephalon maps — It is supposed to retrieve cognition we have learned. but the encephalon can easy bury 80 % of the information received within 24 hours while something is unwanted and painful. the encephalon merely ne’er bury. ! Now get downing to acquire bored of instructor who speaks on and on. besides feel pain in my tail bone as I sit on a difficult plastic talk desk. I lean frontward to the desk and rest my caput on my folded weaponries. and bit by bit fall asleep. Or. when I feel so comfortable as I somewhat and easy lay myself on the couch. My organic structure feels warm as it starts to stomp itself on that couch. Somehow my head faux pas off and I. so. fall asleep. In the dark. my head subconsciously play the film of someplace I don’t know.
It frequently is a mixture of many topographic points and a batch of people known and unknown. Erstwhile I see a adult female have oning a well-designed frock and a Louboutin high heel standing with the human-sized Statue of Liberty in forepart of bloody ruddy Eiffel tower which located in Sanam Luang. I come to recognize that my head is the most inventive than books I have of all time read about. and it is besides the most beautiful than every topographic points I have every been loosen uping myself at. ! Personally. the lone topographic point that I can ever be entirely and loosen up is merely in my head. my ain bubble. It can be describe as private. yesterday and tomorrow. and Europe and Asia. My head is an anytime flight door from tough. drilling. and palling life. a Doraemon’s clip machine which Nobita ever try to steal. and a hope of bright tomorrow. Unquestionably. I will ne’er let anyone to occupy this topographic point and dad my bubble!
