I've been doing a lot of thinking about home lately. I'm not really sure where that is. And maybe that's okay. Miles of road behind me. Crunching snow beneath my feet. A travel toothbrush and a million thoughts. Everything's quite forlorn, and I'm pretty quiet. And maybe that's okay. I feel a little strange. My insides are a little unsettled, and so is my life. My body is still weak and my head a little foggy from having the flu. Everyday I wake up hoping to feel more like myself, but it hasn't happened yet. I don't think it will for a long time. And, maybe that's okay.
5 months ago I had never been more excited to leave Oklahoma and get a taste of something else. I still crave that "something else" but oddly enough have never been more excited to see my home state again. I think because everything's so scattered, maybe it's the familiarity I yearn for. After all, it's all I've ever known. And it will still feel somewhat scattered. I won't have my own place anymore. I gave that up. And some of my best friends have moved, which is a shame. And my stuff will need to remain boxed up for a while I'm sure, while I figure out what to do with it, and myself. But what is "stuff" anyway? I've learned all I really need is my camera. In a nut shell. I see a glimpse of home when i look through it, no matter where I'm at. And maybe, that alone is okay.
5 months ago I had never been more excited to leave Oklahoma and get a taste of something else. I still crave that "something else" but oddly enough have never been more excited to see my home state again. I think because everything's so scattered, maybe it's the familiarity I yearn for. After all, it's all I've ever known. And it will still feel somewhat scattered. I won't have my own place anymore. I gave that up. And some of my best friends have moved, which is a shame. And my stuff will need to remain boxed up for a while I'm sure, while I figure out what to do with it, and myself. But what is "stuff" anyway? I've learned all I really need is my camera. In a nut shell. I see a glimpse of home when i look through it, no matter where I'm at. And maybe, that alone is okay.
Home feels like:
my mom:
- her chocolate cake
- hugs
- advise
- late night nachos
- her listening ear and soft shoulder
- goofiness
- movie buddy
- homemade southern cookin'
my dog:
- unconditional love
- soft fluffy white fur
- wet nose
- brownie brown eyes
- walks
- couch cuddler
- funny quarks
my best friend, Sheri:
- football buddy
- beer buddy
- best advise
- clothes sharing
- someone who really knows me
- constant silliness
- confidant
other randoms:
- pumpkin ice cream at Braums
- familiar faces
- endless sunsets
- OU football
- Missoula
- my camera
- my EFers
