My mind is heavy, but the thoughts are good. Bloated with the basic notion of opportunity—instead of swollen with regret related to things I could never possibly change. Have I become naive and desperate? Or am I just learning to relax? Damn, life can get pretty tricky when you don’t even trust yourself anymore.
Living here feels like camping. Music sounds a little better, the yard is secluded and the house serves the purpose of peaceful shelter. Nothing is “nice,” but everything is wonderful.