7 years

In Chicago for a few days for a conference.

Had a thought. There is one place I've spent my time more than anywhere else in the world. I did the calculation while resting in the bedroom I grew up in last night. Seven years. I've spent seven solid years in this tiny, oddly-shaped room.

After the past 10 years of "strategically wandering" as I like to call my twenties, the craving of certain geographical anchor points has heightened. This room is full of fond memories, lucid dreams, childish laughter, hopeful anticipation, sleepless nights and a lot of praying. It's like one large security blanket. I can't imagine the feeling of safety and comfort gets more tangible than this.

I've had a wishful affection for the past on this trip. My associations are full of optimism and warmth.

I'm feeling a lot of deja vu right now.