Once again I find myself laying in bed and staring with empty eyes at my room.
In my mind this is not my room, and I am not here.
I view my surroundings as if they are a photo I hold in my hands.
This isn't my life, but a glimpse into someone else's;
I judge them for their mess and chaos.
I admire them for their creativity .
I judge the way they let their partner treat them in this space.
I admire the compassion I see shining through despite that treatment.
I am able to identify both my best-self and my worst-self
While looking down at this snapshot of a strangers room with my bed