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mudcub

When I was a freshman in college at age 18, my mom dropped me off at school for the first week. At the time, I could fit everything I owned into a Toyota Tercel hatchback, with room to spare. But I remember when I unloaded my life into a dorm room, kissed my mom goodbye, and shut the door.

The was a wonderful feeling. It was *my* space for the first time. No rules, no curfew, and nobody to bother me. Probably the first thing that I owned emotionally with no strings attached.

Door

I did the same thing today, and it was bittersweet. I have more things now at age 39; there are two storage pods somewhere in Nevada waiting for when I can find a house or condo to buy. In the meantime, I'm living out of five suitcases and an assortment of boxes. I'm renting a room from sfbritskin, a great guy and leatherman who may not know what he's getting into by associating with me!

I finished moving everything today during lunch. I sat down in the middle of the floor, since I don't have a bed yet. Just a sleeping bag on an air mattress. I wanted to put on some music, but I don't know where my radio would be. I thought about how I've kind of wasted the last 15 years of my life, and it was embarrassing that I'm right back where I started twenty years ago. But I shook off those thoughts, closed my eyes and listened to the silence for a while. Then I got up and closed the door.

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Probably off topic, but I was sympathetic to a satanist I met who said that everything falls apart: to him, the christian idea of salvation was naive at best and dangerous at worst. He dedicated his life to creating beautiful fragile works of art, and then destroying them. I've met a lot of satanists lately, come to think of it...

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