There's much to be said about being addressed by your own name in a territory you no longer inhabit, a space that should have long since forgotten you considering the pace at which time travels these days, but does not, for some reason. It makes you feel you made a mark, left a scratch on the endless stairway. Amidst the threat of the familiar, and the disappointment of the unfamiliar, a knowing smile fades in through the mist, spiced with a pleasant surprise, garnished with a warm tone, enveloping you in a warm hug.
In a world where all entries are far better guarded than exits - flashing in red, inviting with an assured formality - there is no greater joy than to inhabit a space that is punctuated by genuine warmth, that delicately holds time for you, and is always willing for a delayed intercourse. Home - that space you leave in the morning - have in the meanwhile become storage bins with a growing appetite, no longer capable of holding the doorknob, leave aside the time itself. The search for those warm and open spaces, therefore, has never been more frantic. I'm glad to have known a few, and inhabited their low-security margins.
In a world where all entries are far better guarded than exits - flashing in red, inviting with an assured formality - there is no greater joy than to inhabit a space that is punctuated by genuine warmth, that delicately holds time for you, and is always willing for a delayed intercourse. Home - that space you leave in the morning - have in the meanwhile become storage bins with a growing appetite, no longer capable of holding the doorknob, leave aside the time itself. The search for those warm and open spaces, therefore, has never been more frantic. I'm glad to have known a few, and inhabited their low-security margins.
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