Writing

I Used To Be A Habitual Tresspasser

  • August 29, 2015
Abingdon Ceramics Factory

Abingdon Ceramics Factory by Craigfinlay on Flickr

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When I was younger, life seemed so easy. Writing seemed easier; I was young, naive, restless, and wild. Uninhibited, never self-conscious, filled with thoughts, ideas, and seemingly endless inspiration. I felt comfortable documenting every thought, emotion, and experience, completely unfiltered and uncensored. All my random, empty thoughts, subtleties, and obscure observations, often conveyed in riddles or rhymes.

When I was younger, no older than 16 years of age, I would seek out my own adventures. I foolishly left my camera behind out of fear that someone might find the pictures. Instead, I brought along only a days worth of food, and my writing notebook.

I was a habitual trespasser; wandering into places most people rarely think about, and never visit. I found these places inspiring, often surreal. To think that I was all alone in a strange place I had never been before. All alone, in a place that had been abandoned, forgotten, or neglected.

I never told anyone where I was going, not even my parents; I would only promise to be safe and return home at a specific time. Looking back, it seems some things never change.

Colophon
The header image was taken at Abingdon Ceramics Factory by Craigfinlay. It was originally posted on Flickr, and is being used under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic License.

Asides
I Am The Only Child Of An Atomic Engineer | It’s Been So Long Since I’ve Seen Something Incredible | 6th Grade And Other Mishaps | Copious Notes | Cari Ann Wayman | The Power Of Keeping A Notebook

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8 Comments on I Used To Be A Habitual Tresspasser

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  • Tracey Tobin says:
    August 29, 2015 at 1:59 PM

    I was the same way as kid. I loved to just wander, whether it be through town or through the woods. I really loved going to the barracks…all along the shoreline where I grew up there were abandoned army outposts, where they’d aim canons out to sea. There’s one that must have been like a hidey hole, because it’s two stories underground with no windows, just small ducts for air. You’d have to take a flashlight down there and it always felt so creepy and surreal, I loved it. ^_^

    Reply

    • Thomas says:
      August 29, 2015 at 5:09 PM

      Tracey, at first, I was uneasy about posting this. I’m very OCD when it comes to my work, and nothing I write is every really good enough for me. But it seems that this is going to be one of my more popular posts.

      I’m glad I’m not alone; it is nice to know that there are others who spent a good part of their childhoods habitually wandering and exploring.

      Reply

  • Emilio says:
    August 29, 2015 at 11:21 AM

    We need more Tom. More! Oh, I get it. I have to read other posts of yours? So be it!

    Reply

    • Thomas Slatin says:
      August 29, 2015 at 3:13 PM

      More? There will always be more to come. Stop by every day for something new and exciting. 🙂

      Reply

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