Yesterday I moved into a few houses, imagining I lived on an ice cold pond in New Hampshire or by the sea in Maine. I was swimming in cyber space over granite counter tops, through family rooms, past fireplaces and screened back porches. I imagined guests lingering over a large table, having good conversations for days. A fantasy on another planet.
Actually people drive me crazy and are a continuous source of pain and disappointment. I already have what I want. I love my semi solitude, my life in the ghetto, where I can talk to strangers and stray dogs. My house is used for work, not fantasy, and that scares everyone away.
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