I walk in and I already start to feel calm. It smells like sweat, rubber and metal but it brings me peace. There is no beauty in design here, but seeing the inside gives me seratonin. This place is always open, no matter what time I need it. I let out my anger here. I let out my joy here. I let all the pressure of the world release here. This is my meditation.

Every rep, every step, every stair. I’m pushing through my anxiety. I’m pushing through my fear. I am capable.

Everyone here is also so welcoming. It has a reputation of being a very judgy place. Every person I’ve interacted with here has felt like family.

The room was calming. It had soft instumental music playing, with birds singing in the backround. The sounds created a feeling of springtime, of renewal.

The room smells almost neutral, but with undertones that smelled like sweet fruits and berries, undertones that were reminiscent of flowers, newly budding. The smells felt like a blanket that you wanted to fall into, and never unwrap yourself from.

The room creates a feeling of home, as if every detail, down to the textures in the floor, feel as if they were lovingly chosen for you by your past self. If you were upset, a few minutes in this room could calm you. If you were worried, a second could infuse you with renewed patience and happiness that you thought impssible at that moment.

The room was pure happiness. You weren’t sure if true joy could even occur outside of the room. The room had an air of nostalgia and safeness nothing and no one else could ever provide. The room feels like it could fuel life itself, as if it could give the universe meaning.

The room represented all the good in the world. It represented every reason to love existence itself, as if every inhale of the perfumey scent slowly melted all troubles, worries, and issues away.

The room inspired love, second chances, and appreciation of things that were always there, but never truly cherished the way they should’ve been.

The room was the place everyone deserved to have, it was homely, and inviting, and not so big it swallowed you whole, but not so small it was suffocating. The room was like a childhood friendship that never lost its spark. The room was comfort, in a world devoid of comforts. The room was beautiful.

Wind ripples around Thrill of riding fast Adrenaline of the high This world feels like mine

We’re riding alive Flying so free The wind in my hair Energy resides within me

Cruising through the dark With the courage to fall No thoughts for now Midnights nourish all

My footsteps reverberated throughout the room as I approached the forklift. I hastily climbed aboard as I could hear the restless impatience of the waiting dock workers. The smell of nearly ripe fruit mingled with the salty breeze from the loading dock as I carefully navigated the lift under the wooden slats supporting the tower of produce. I locked the lift in place, shifted gears and lifted the heavy load high above me, nearly halfway to the rafters. Carefully, I navigated the forklift toward the opening where half a dozen men anxiously awaited their final load of the day, eager to grab a beer at the local pub just up the block.

The atmosphere buzzes with an undercurrent of tension, where whispers of secrets linger in the air. A sense of anticipation hangs, thick and palpable, as emotions fluctuate like a pendulum. Time feels suspended, and each heartbeat resonates with unspoken thoughts and shared glances. There’s a rhythm to the interactions—moments of laughter that quickly give way to silence, a dance of connection and distance that draws everyone in, yet keeps them apart. The energy is electric, a blend of hope, anxiety, and the weight of unfulfilled dreams.

Okunan kuran sefleri derinden çalınmaya 1maBaşladı. İilerledikçe tekbir sef'lerigi kulağımmaın içersinde çınladığını hissedebiliyordum. Bir@@ yandag da kızarmış yağ kokuları burnuma gelip genzimi yakıyoyordu. Kalabalıb insan topluluklarını görüyordum. İnsanların sessizliği, yüzleriniz gülmeyişi, bana ortamın üzüntü içinde olduklarınıaçık bir şekilde anlatmaya yetmişti. Elime tutuşturulan sıcak pişilerledeto@kat gibi çarpan acı gerçeğibütün vücudum titreyerek anlamıştım.

I close my eyes and am warped back to what has become my favorite place. A place that inflates me so fully, when I leave, it’s like taking MDMA the night before: every tomorrow is suicide Tuesday. I breathe in the comfort of tobacco flavored Vuse and derive more pleasure than you do from my finger tips raking your back. The Felice Brothers lull us to sleep, and through heavy eyes I glance at your dusty, thick hair and swallow a wave of sadness. I had no idea I could love anyone this much besides my mom and dog.

“I can take you there,” he told me after looking me up and down. As if he had to ensure I was worthy of such a place first. “But it’s unlike anywhere you’ve ever been before. Think of the last time you looked up at the moon. Know that color? Know the spots of that orb? And how sometimes it shines down onto a lamp-post, or a sidewalk? Think of how that color, that exact color would interact with a shadow, and you have the ambiance of this place. What would such a thing, the moon, smell like? Not known to me. But this place, I can tell you, smells like stone. Cold, hard stone. The type of cut stone that makes your nose itch, dry. Real dry. And what sounds are made on the moon? Again, not sure. Not known to me. But here, in this place, there are sounds like chittering, chattering. Teeth knocking in infected gums, ready to fall out. Rattling.”

I took his hand and followed.

I am in a great place right now. I feel a nice breeze on my skin and I can smell the salty air around me. I see and hear birds in the background. I also see kites in the sky and I hear the children playing volleyball and swimming as well. There is also a lighthouse in the distance

Murmurs and shouts gather around the center, eager to self-indulge another day. Some corners have the scent of crisp linen, while others can make a person gag. The industrialized lifestyle buzzes as one travels through the breeze.