It smells like paint inside my entry way. I own an entry way now. Where the walls are lined with ceiling and the front door can take your mind and twirl it into circles. I enter into my new life, where I can hear the waves, and they accompany me. (I always told myself I would live near water.) The ocean separates me the way that most luxuries can't but I can live with the waves of this lake. I can still slip away into the night and dream about different places on earth I could pretend to be. My hair never blows in the wind anymore, and I have never felt so grounded. I am still free in my being, but no longer without a home. I am still travelling, still glowing, still gliding across spaces, but now I have a place for everything I own. I own things now.