I feel like the last 4 years of my life has been one transitional space to the next. I have this dream that one day I will be able to fit all of my belongings into a backpack and be able to get up and go when the moment takes me. I still have quite a bit of downsizing to do but I think I will get there.
My parents live an hour and a half outside the city. I didn't grow up there but I did some years of my high school career there. I really disliked the town. When I would be bored or hating life as many 16 year olds do I would paint on my wall. But now they are planning on moving and my bedroom just got painted. I will see it in a week when I go back to visit for a weekend. I had to take everything off the walls. My bed in their home is a water bed. Most people think this is weird mixed with cool mixed with comments about getting seasi
ck.My room in NY right now is perhaps the most transitional but also the most comfortable I have ever felt in any of my NY homes. I have no idea how long I will be here but I know it wont be long before I move on again. This makes me sad because it's an apartment and room that I actually feel is mine. Even though I have only lived here for 6 months I feel like a lifetime of
events have happened and my apartment and my bed have been a solace as well as a discomfort. I am obsessed with my bed here.I've always been nomadic to the point that living in one place for longer than a few years makes me a bit uneasy. I don't have a home town, a neighborhood street that I grew up on. I think that's why I am so obsessed with my bed and my rooms because I make them into homes that I get attached to for the time I spend in them and then I move on which oddly enough is not too terribly hard to do. It is a bit sad that my room at my parents house is no longer there. And I'll be sad to let this one in NY go.
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