This place is not a house, but it feels so much like home now. I find beauty in almost every one I meet and it makes me question why I have hated humanity for so long. Perhaps, until now, I have not met the right people to share this world with. I've written something, finally, and it feels like a piece of my soul has been lifted and placed onto a dry sheet of paper for the world to wash clean.
I do not dream at night, but this afternoon while taking a nap I dreamed that my friends and I were vacationing in a strange place, a circus beach town. We were all holding hands, or linking arms, I can't remember quite well. The day turned to night and the beach was purely green. We stood watching the waves rolling like logs off a hilled pasture. I have never had a more satisfying nap.
These people are what I would call a family. We eat together; we laugh together; we smoke together; we sleep together; and we wake up to the heartbeat of the morning together. I have never lived with strangers that are so familiar. It is uncommon for a day go by when one of us is not taking care of the other. Just today, LA took care of me while I was feeling lonely. She did not need to be by my side, yet she did so willingly. On the couch, she read poetry and rubbed my head in her lap as I remembered why I was not crying. I am not alone anymore. I have been alone for too long and the feeling comes and goes - a natural occurrence, a habit. Soon I will throw it out as I do with all useless trash - a empty pack of cigarettes recently shared among friends.
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