Perhaps, this home lies deep within For everything is, but mere illusion
I don’t know about you, but the messier my apartment, the more cluttered my mind seems to be.
Stay single until you meet someone and realize home has never been a place but rather this person and wherever they are that’s home.
I will love my body, even when the world shakes her head, even when there are a million and one reasons I shouldn’t, even when I’ve grown tired. Because my body is my home—my dwelling place, my residence, my constant in a world that is far too impermanent. And so, I will live here. I will love here. I will grow here. I will break and rebuild here.