The Art of Leaving, Unperfected.
I am laying on the futon in my living room, covered in a quilt that smells like home, sleep nowhere in sight. My backpack is neatly packed with flip-flops and sundresses, yoga gear and sunscreen. My bedroom, my sanctuary, has been wiped clean. All my belongings are stored in containers inside in the walls.Continue reading on candicedoestheworld.com