I need sleep… in These Days:

My cleaning was moderately productive. Only thing left is declutter the bathroom, some more dishes, and vacuum. I will have to do the latter tomorrow before work. I feel like a dick when I clean late at night but I work second shift so it’s just more practical for me, and I’d never vacuum at this hour because I live in an apartment. No one needs that.

I’m really not content living in an apartment anymore. I used to have my own home, but I massively downgraded and I regret it. I miss feeling like something was quasi-mine at times. A place I know where I can go, listen to music at a higher volume and still not be disruptive. Or just a place I can lie on my back and stare at the walls or ceiling, idly looking for little images made out of the texture of paint. I guess that could sound weird, but for me it’s comforting, I suppose. I’ve been doing that since I was a small child. Once you find a special one in particular, you will always notice it again. I guess that’s the real thing: the stability/the familiarity desire. I can’t settle in an apartment because I know it’s fleeting. People wonder why I don’t hang stuff on the walls or making it more home-like…and I guess I don’t because it just doesn’t feel like home.

But then again, who am I kidding because what does that mean? I’ve lived in many different places, in two different countries, and in multiple States. I guess I should just remember “home” is simply what you make of it. I want to find mine hopefully within the next few years, wherever that is.

(Man, that became a tangent! Yep, definitely need sleep.)