This is my last post from the Rooted Living House.
M. and I have flexed our wings and
we
are
flying
south
a few blocks
to
the "Treehouse" -
another communal living experience seemingly nestled in the green canopy found within
South Park's ambling canyon system. I was laughing at myself earlier - remembering how I had
arrived into this house. Infantile and whining that "I hate it here" - only three short months ago, my ego wasn't looking forward to the growth opportunity that this house offered. Now, I fly away a bit more rooted and a whole lot lighter.
Although, I still have way too much $hit! Jesus H. Christ! It is a ball and a chain this crap, yet here I go - dragging more stuff along with me to my next journey. The ironic thing is that compared to most of my contemporaries, I am a minimalist! Why? Why? Why? It makes no sense - all this stuff does, that merely takes up space, gathers dust, and provides very little to no regenerative exchange (I can't hold it, kiss it, talk to it, etc) is drain life force energy. Blah.
STUFF IS BORING.
PEOPLE ARE FUN.
(LOVE IS ALL WE NEED.)
