I feel so lost.
I look at the walls around, painted in a gently yellowish-green, and think about how everything seem so still.
Just a sip of cold orange juice before I go to bed.
The power of storytelling throughout shower droplets. I giggle at myself.
-"How many times have I done this?"
Feels pretty comfortable and yet still stuck somewhere halfway between who I am and who I wanted to be.
I feel so lost.
An old apartment holding cracked walls and blank ceiling.
I love the feeling of closely scanning something for the first time. I can almost feel my brain cells assembling the very first impressions and building connections as the days roll by. Feels a little sad to keep losing the unknown side of it, I'd say. I could compare to the way I wonder about people. Isn't it funny to recall the old ways we used to look at them? Just as guest houses we walk in, relationships are floors and ceilings once blank in our mind's neighborhood. Much the same as houses, we put our own eyes to it, even thou we can only decorate its interior using already existing furniture. Unlike houses, it necessarily takes time. And not only your time.
My hands are cold.
So as the tip of my toe, even wrapped around heavy dark blankets. I am such a fragile piece of human being.
And, somehow,
I don't feel as lost as when I got here.