I am in a library in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

It is a small library, kind of stark with a tiled floor reminiscent of a elementary school cafeteria.

It is a library that is a twelve minute walk from my house.

My house.

That still feels weird to say.

I have lived as a vagabond for the last 14 months.
Before that in tiny apartments

But now I have a house. With a great backyard. With a sun room where there are already dozens of plants. A block away from a riverwalk that takes me straight downtown. With books on every shelf and books piled on the floor because we still don't have a place for them. With music playing all the time. WIth one of the best dogs anyone could hope for. With a front porch where I sit and drink tea in the mornings.

My house.

My roommates are two of my closest friends. We are still ironing out the kinks and working out the flow, but we work well together. We have a shared vision to make our house a community center where we will facilitate discussion on meditation, sex positivity, politics, spirituality, art, literature, whatever.

And Tulsa is prettier than I expected. Everything is lush and green, cherry blossoms everywhere. I know it will get horribly hot and humid soon, but right now the weather is perfect.

A little over a week ago I was in the hospital again. My meds made me screwy and I...well, I got very close to never seeing Tulsa.

And now I am here. Still a little fragile.

But in a house where I can be exactly who I want to be and stretch out and relax.

What a difference having your basic needs met.

It's God damn rejuvenating

10:37 a.m. - 2019-04-08