Wednesday, June 04, 2008
See, nowhere feels like home any more. Every bed feels like someone else's. I wake up and have no idea where I am. I look for some anchor and then I realize that I am in my house. But it's not really mine. You don't really own anything. And this is just where I'm staying for now. Every room is a hotel, every step is not mine.
Photo - S
Words - S
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