It's not what you see; it's how it. sees you.

Lately I've been having feelings that can only be described as the son of a never-existing nostalgia. I know. Crazy. 

These past months I've found home. My home. The pinnacle of what my younger self wanted to achieve in life. To be able to live from oneself, to prosper, and to grow.

But I have the feeling I've missed this terrace I'm sitting on, even though I never knew it even existed before November last year. I sometimes miss going to parties, even though I've been to as few as odd fingers I have in my right hand. Yeah, not many. I have this strange feeling this is time to live more, and to experiment all I've most simplistically and purely; "haven't had the balls to experience as fully as I should". 

It's strange because I knew I'd see, hear and feel all these things I notice now. The flickering lights of small streets that shine from the mountains up north, or the repeating flame of the lighthouse to the south. The Jupiter like clouds floating over my head while I smoke a cig and share a beer with my friend. Even the cold but soft breeze I feel through my fingers and kneecaps as I'm typing this.

I had the weird sensation that once you reach this stage everything begins to feel a little monotonous. You become stuck for a bit, and I truly, truly believe you do for a while.  Some people feel overwhelmed with responsibilities and work. Both this and the last statement are true. Nevertheless, I've stopped feeling like that now.

It's come to a point where I just enjoy being in that moment when I realise that it's me looking to that standing cloud above me that looks like it's watching me. 

There is risk in being alive, but what is fun without risk right? I feel I want to do everything I haven't done before, and let it go through me as I've never had the courage to.

I want to live like I've never lived before. I want to share what I'm seeing right now, and it's one of the reasons I'm writing this here. I miss too many people, lived too strictly, and the sky is too open and embracing to not begin to take life less serious now.

From all these things, I miss sharing. I feel I've become a bit separated from certain people whom I'd love to have here with me. People that probably I'll never see again, but whom spots I'm eager to give, not for bad blood, but to learn. To learn from everybody else. Just as I've always done in silence, but asking for it this time.

I wish this house was big enough to fit them all.

But I know life only has room for a few each time. And I respect that. and its order. As much as there are bad steps as there are good ones along the way, I cannot ignore that they have brought me here. And I'm thankful for that. 

Likely more than anybody will ever know.

Written from my little nest in the forest that is life.

-the owl;