(no subject)
That dreaded feeling of nostalgia that can never be pinpointed, but is all too familiar is dragging me down once again. My son's indisputable joy in his world can push this into the far depths of my mind, but when he is not near it exhausts me. maybe it is the time of the year or maybe the clutter of this house is finally swallowing me whole. shuffle the clutter to clear one space, but by this point there is nowhere left to push all the things that no one is willing to deal with. Things that I have no authority to just get rid of! I am thankful for the generosity and I feel welcome, but I need to be able to control my space. I need a small space that is mine where I don't risk an avalanche if I don't shift ever so gently. There is nothing to be done and it may be silly to feel engulfed by a house. Regardless, I'm searching for a tangible reason to attribute this feeling toward and this is the best I've got.