So where do I go from here? Turning in my bed I strain to feel anymore than I already am. I have held thoughts before dawn of a world with a little more focus. A world with fewer objects to clutter it. How can it be so goddamn difficult to find a home? What is home? Who owns the rights to home? I wanted to live somewhere with ease. I have that thought where I can survive without the help of others yet I know I shall have to rely on them to get me through. Mum, I need one thousand pounds in thoughts. I heard the downstairs neighbour sneeze just there. It troubled me. Reminded me that I have not left the world around me. I write to escape the thoughts of the flat hunt. The sneeze brought it back. Placed context to these thoughts. Made them all too real again. Externalised the internalised. Hummm… I sigh. I watch time stop and start again. Waiting to find that day when. Yeah. That day when. That’s really what all this comes down to. I want to find that day when. That day when I'm employed by my career. That day when my life has settled and I have the boy with the house together. That day when I see the world with my own eyes and his by my side. Am I waiting for that day when or am I about to set it in motion? Have I already set it in motion and am I living that day when. I think I know my boy now but a home? That’s perhaps a misplaced oddity. So where do I go from here? Well I have taken the Waverley steps now it might be time to take a session of autonomy. After all, this was act 3 right? |