better question. why can I not seem to place the thoughts that run the playground and city streets of my mind onto a nice confined orderly space. the more you know me the more you know i like things orderly and I like for everything to have a home. I diligently remove things from our home that are no longer needed wanted or useful. I lean into minimalism but can not quite stomach the vast loneliness that accompanies it - but the vastness is a draw!
so these hoodlums that ride the sidewalks and stair wells on their skateboards of time throughout my ideas and my thoughts - dont they want a home?
so many opinions, experiences and lessons learned dance and flip and turn laughing - dont they want a home? wouldnt they feel more worthwhile to have a title and a hardback hug?
I have entire lives created in my mind with simple vistas during a drive, and forgotten old homes generates tales of nostalgia and hope, but I am yet to corral these youthful roamers. I can hardly identify like qualities to group them or similar interests to link them..
they only pretend to be interested in what I want - they have a mind of their own but when they frolic as I lay in bed well meaning to sleep I do wish them some order and a home of their own.
