Changing priorities.

I’ve been a nomad since young, so shifting house and address doesn’t mean much. A touch of nostalgia to be sure.. but I adapt. Even now two weeks after I’ve moved here.. there’s only the bare minimum I brought: jeans, fbts, shirts to sleep in, library books, blanket, bags. My other space at the other house still looked so lived-in. As if I’ve never been gone. It can be so easy to slip into that life again. (But that me and who I am right now stand at both ends of the spectrum.)