Home. I’ve spent so long writing about it & never really finding it.
I can’t sleep because I don’t feel safe here anymore, and I wonder if I ever really did.
When the root chakra goes off the adrenals go on. So is home just a place we feel safe?

This house is riddled with divorce and wealth but it is empty of love.
I haven’t even been able to sage it because the corners and crevices would be too hard to reach energetically. The owner stops me from being me, which reminds me that when people stop us from being free that’s when we really need to leave.
If I die and have nothing, at least I will know I had my voice. That I let myself be heard.
Maya angelou knows why “the caged bird sings” but I know why it doesn’t.
Everyone around me has been suppressing my creativity & it hurts when I can’t open fully. I want my home to foster nuturing energy and creativity.

In Serbia I went into a bookshop and pulled out Margaret Atwood’s “freedom” off a bookshelf. I wonder how she would feel about Covid 19 with lines such as “Western governments control their people.”
I miss my local conspiracy theorist in Noosa because even though everyone thought he was crazy, his Gemini madness understood me. I knew I didn’t love my ex when he called my poetry cute & I’ve let go of a lot of defensiveness of my early 20s to move into really loving and knowing myself.

I know I’m a woman cause I buy linen jumpsuits but I’m still a girl when I don’t iron them properly. I can’t handle being the mature aged student in my sharehouse when I’m constantly changing the toilet roll.

I’m moving into my own two bedroom apartment and I can’t even fathom having that much space after living in a studio in Melbourne.
He thinks I’m a Brunswick girl so he can demean me. I told him off for slapping me in the face sexually. “I am a human being not a human doing!” My friends like “some women like being demeaned in bed, you’re not one of them.”

I know I’ve become feminine when the girls at after school care say “I like your pink hairtie.” I reminisce about how I threw everything out of my Melbourne apartment – when you have to go you have to go. I left when the last toilet roll ended.