Wednesday, April 27, 2011

come in

all images From Greenwich

There's something so improper about living in an apartment. I tend to feel like it stops one from growing up. Mentally you feel young and un-adultlike because, well, you don't have a house and a yard and a garage filled with stuff you rarely use. Instead you (or should perhaps the better word would be "I") feel kid-ish. Even when you have a kid, or two. Maybe you always feel this way, cause that's the odd part of growing up, you never really feel as old as you are. You never feel like the life you live really belongs to you. What do you think?

1 comment:

  1. As you know, I have a house with a garage attic filled with treasures, not junk, well mostly. It's so much fun "finding" these things, especially for a child. It's like going on treasure hunt at grandmas house just as I did as a child.


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