Everywhere I go, Im not at home, not even at home.
My spirit is lost without a place like a nomad looking for food. I feel like a visitor when I sleep in my girlfriends bed, with the patterened sheets and frilly pillowcase that scream "You are not supposed to be here." Its all woman and I feel about as out of place as a cow at mcdonalds.
My moms couch is okay, butI have to sleep with my legs slightly curled, the floor would be better. Along with hearing my moms morning routine on the otherside of the wall reminding me What the fuck am I doing here?
My brothers couch allows for leg stretch but his GF doesnt, she can throw a mean look nolan ryan style, not really what you want to see as you lay down to rest.
That warm "home" feeling hasnt lived in my mind since I was 16. The only place Ive felt at home in recent years is that crisp night I slept in my truck. It was emotionally comfortable, not invading anyones space was worth the sharp stinging in my lower back from attempting to rest in a truck seat. My heart didnt care. The freeing of my soul still soars with the thought of a limp back and one day Ill be back.
Listening to nighttime UFO radio talk, my 99 cent hamburger and an old shirt as a blanket is just about the freeist Ive ever felt.
Check out hooptylife.com
No comments:
Post a Comment