How can I have a comfortable house, my own nice bedroom, a loving family and still feel homeless? My boyfriend's house, already set up, his own routine, style. Rather than find myself, i feel i fight to keep up and learn with no curve.
I fear I will never know what it's like to decorate my own house, pick out my own towels. To always feel like I'm filling up the empty nooks and crannies. Fighting for individuality, space, freedom.
Lost, floating, transparent, hazy
To live, to be alive...
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