Photo by Emma Harper on Unsplash

Sometimes when I close my eyes I feel like I’m back home.

I can hear mom and dad downstairs, idly going about their day as the birds outside chatter away. The sun shines in through the window that separates me from the swaying trees and the endless Saskatchewan skies. I’m reminded of a warm summer day, dozing off as I finally catch some rest after swimming in the lake. In an hour mom’ll have dinner ready and after eating with my family I’ll be free to spend the rest of the day with the people I love.

But when I open my eyes, my senses come back to me. Instead of rich cedar, I’m greeted with piss-yellow paint peeling from old concrete walls. The cramped room, like myself, is scattered and in complete disarray. The dishes from yesterday’s lunch sit unwashed on my tiny table and Plato’s Republic lies closed next to me, my page lost.

There’s no lake.

There’s no free food.

There’s no family.

I’m alone in my dorm, surrounded by people who all feel the same way.

Maybe we can be alone together.

About this Soul Bruvton
I'm a chill doggo who loves music, literature, and crypto.

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I wonder if sometimes I miss home or the *idea* of it.
The concept seems to change with the places you've visited slowly fade at the end of the day it's just people that remain.

You are not alone.
What if your dream on the lake is the reality and you are dreaming of the piss yellow room to which you are now find yourself in, can you wake up on the lake and go for a swim, wait for lunch and see your family again.