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Today, for the first time since July, I have a room that I live in.
I have a permanent address.
I have shelves I can put my books on and leave them there.
I have a wardrobe I can hang my things in.
I have a desk I can spread out my stuff on.
For the first time since July I have completely unpacked my rucksack and put it away.
I've got a bit of space that I have a right to.
It's weird. It's good.
What a strange six months it's been.
I have a permanent address.
I have shelves I can put my books on and leave them there.
I have a wardrobe I can hang my things in.
I have a desk I can spread out my stuff on.
For the first time since July I have completely unpacked my rucksack and put it away.
I've got a bit of space that I have a right to.
It's weird. It's good.
What a strange six months it's been.
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The question is whether these six months fade and become some dreamlike time that, one day, you can't quite believe you ever did and gloss over in your conversations with suburban educational administrators.
...Or whether the restless, moving, creative person lives on, always seeing things for the first time.
no subject
And you can have lots of starting-points...