it's not a prison, but you'd be forgiven for mistaking it as one

As a child I spent about three weeks in one with my brother and mother, and it was some kind of hell and then some, but far better than what we ran away from.

Write it out where you can, and I hope the circumstances that landed you there are cleaned up and you’re ok!

Thank you. This place hasn't been hell, but it's been difficult. I'm grateful it was available but I wouldn't wish this kind of place on anyone unless they literally had no better place to go.

My circumstances are looking up and I will be out of here in a few days. The future is looking brighter, hopefully it stays that way.

I was 10 when we were there and I got into fights with all the other male children including a 14 year old that beat me stupid, so for me it was hell, but at the same time where we came from was a million times worse.

At least I and my brother were safe in the room we shared.

And we lived in worse over the time lol

Being a kid in that situation is incredibly hard, especially when you come from something shit and suddenly you're shoved into a small space with a bunch of people you don't know. Conflict is always gonna happen. We've had some interesting people come through here with kids. Two kids literally scared the shit out of me because they were so violent, but I also understand that it's a reflection of the world they found themselves in before they came here.

If you're really good at minimalism, and so you could be said that you're an epicurean minimalist. And that, judged, becomes a self-identify backlash.  
 
Then you, through responding to people who are disgusted. Each layer leading to compassion is one irony slap in face after another.  
 
The lessons become both the strategy and the materialist subject and object, artifact in history, Excuses or sub-conscious pathways. Form becomes the function.  
 
You learn about yourself. The barrier becomes more honed.  
 
And the risk is made.  
 
It's all disclosure  We fight understanding, not just relinquishing the mind. We fight the whoe process by mutually exclusive thinking..  
 
Instead,- see how they are the same idea. Consistency creates a dogmatic,  cultish thought bank.  
 
It's all a series thought forms that require a certain aesthetic.  
 
The mind and heart seek alignment. Reciprocity.  
 
Balance. Our environments talk to us.  
 
Awareness. Tolerance. Security. And invisibly become safety and raw skin.  
 
And privacy becomes within reach.  
 
To escape reality, we put on the turtle shell of normal life, we become invisible to personalization.  Instututionalism.  
 
And rehabilitation, at home.

A lot to unpack on all levels. Thank you.

Dear I,

I’m not sure I can even express what and how I feel toward this write. It’s so raw and honest and I don’t think whatever I would say wouldn’t feel trite. So I’ll stick to the write itself in that captures human emotion and behavior brilliantly. I wish I could write like this. On a personal note, I’m so glad you’re away from the previous circumstances and I wish all good things your way. Amazing poem. H🌷

Thank you H, it's definitely been a double edged sword. I'm leaving this week and I'm genuinely glad to be out of there.

Wear the fucking medals. Break the fucking rules.

There was an apathetic acceptance tempering a simmering rage-tone. It made this a deeper gut-punch.

Wear the fucking medals.

I'm absolutely gonna walk out of there tomorrow with medals, and a string of broken rules, lol.

"There was an apathetic acceptance tempering a simmering rage-tone". I love how you expressed the feeling. It's exactly how it feels.