I feel weird being home. In this bed. In this room. Nothing feels the same and nothing ever felt okay here anyway. Is there a phobia for the fear of large houses? More than anything I want to escape with my love and find a quaint cozy house in the wilderness to camp out inside of it for the rest of our days, not worrying about a single thing in the universe, watching the sun rise above the horizon through the wooden window panes, feeling the cool grass beneath our dried feet and giving pieces of ourselves away to the wind in our curls.

What if each time the sun rose in the morning, it would be a different star every single time? What if we found out that there isn't only one sun for our earth? What if there was a different star looking upon us every single 24 hours? How would we all react? We make too many assumptions about our surroundings, we take advantage of every moment and every second because life just doesn't move fast enough for us, right? I wish and hope and meditate on the thought that one day everyone would stop what they were doing, drop everything out of their hands, and do nothing but breathe. And when they do, they may be able to hear the sounds of everything breathing around them, even those things which seem like they are not living at all.