I can’t wait for the day I get my own space.

Currently, everything I live with fits in a 10x10 room. It was a massive downsize from when I had a whole floor of my old house to myself. It was wasted on me at the time. It was set up for chilling: chairs, tables and the like. It hurts my brain on nights like this one fighting a never ending battle with project clutter, when I would just sit with my friends stoned out of out minds in my basement-bunker. One could argue that times we had were cool, the music made was moderate to well done. It didn’t last in the long run though. I guess that what kills me. Older and much wiser now.

There’s a bleed over effect when you spend 80% of your time in one room. You are, in reality, doing many different things: reading, sleeping, working, studying, drawing, writing; but the fact it takes place all in the same space gives you the feeling like you’re always running on a hamster wheel. 

I think most of all, I miss having a place just for sleep. There’s something to be said for that. Just a room with a bed and some other comforting things dedicated to restoring and rest. Resting without my computer three-or-so feet away from me telling me what I have in store for the next some-odd days. Resting without that unfinished wall drawing glaring back or me, or my art bin reminding me I’m almost out of supplies and no cash to restock. Resting without my guitars and instrument cables strewn about calling attention to the fact that I’ve might of lost a part of myself along the way. 

I can’t wait for my own space. 

The best way to illustrate it is a glass of overflowing water. Sure, I have access to the energy, creativity and ideas in the glass, and it’s getting me by, but I can’t help but feel like the best things are flowing over and I might never even know what they were.