When I rolled into town for some holiday visiting, I had no idea I would end up with a legit job. It's beyond legit, it's ridiculously tailored to my state of affairs, health, etc.
My help is desired, but my presence in not required. Not yet anyways. You can't ask for much more than that.
And I owe a debt of gratitude to my awesome big brother and leetle sister, who have made it possible for me to stay somewhere for free.
The strangest part is that where I'm staying is my old apartment, in my old room, with my bro as a roommate. Just like before I moved.
There is still my box of dusty painting supplies stored over the washing machine. There's still some wrapping paper I used to use.
Even if something is new or moved to a different place, I can find it in just a few moments.
I've never gotten the chance to return to a place I've lived in and find it still intact. I have driven by houses with new occupants, down streets that had changed.
I've stood in the woods and looked at the 2x4 beams jutting up from the ground, the wreckage of what was once a home. Now another spot among the trees, with random pieces jutting up from the ground, slowly losing the fight against nature.
So to come here, this unlikely little apartment, and see all the things I left behind. Tis passing strange, indeed.
I don't belong here anymore. That's what the familiarity makes me realize. There is no space I fit. But I can navigate it. I can tread water here, maybe I can even ride a current or two.
The sunset cast a deep, true pink across the dappled clouds. Blending into the softest grey that was almost white. The breeze was almost undetectable. The dog barked and stopped to watch me watch the sky.
It has been so lovely to see the stars again. So lovely to see the moon. I look up and my constant companions are above me.
Are you staying in Florida?
ReplyDeleteWe'll miss you if that's the case.
Hell No. Got a job, gonna try and make some scratch.
DeleteThink of SoCal everyday. There's no place for me here. I'll come round again.