I live in a bubble.
The walls are soft,
But they are walls.
“You sleep a lot”
I do. It feels as if I’m only awake spurts betweens long intervals of slumber.
But it isn’t always like that.
I recently travelled to Chicago.
The walls of my bubble were still there. They just stretched and expanded to encompass the life happening around me. No sleeping too much. No conforming to the bubble.
IT conformed to ME.
Today I’m sitting in my bubble in my home.
The walls are thick with restriction.
But it’s bright with delicious sights and intimate with the scent of familiarity.