House living seems to feel like I am suffocating, stationary, stuck. In the van its like a cacoon, its mine, and it has wheels. Sure there are risks but so does a house have its risks. I own less and so have to reach out to achieve those things but after sleeping in a house last night, I remember how comfortable and more secure I feel in the van.
I am not homeless,
I simply choose:
to live in a van, my home, my abode,
that can go where I want to go,
where my dreams can come true,
where life makes sense,
things are small,
life is large,
I am not homeless.
I merely choose:
a home on wheels,
that can move, travel,
a nomad on wheels,
thats my van,
the dreamer, the betsy, the minivan,
the everything, I am not homeless, I just live in a van.
I am self sufficient, reliant, safe, explorative, creative,
and can design what I own as I choose. Its my home.
It changes scenery and landscape often, it gets tired, and we move.
We move onward and upward.
I am not homeless, just vanfull, my home on wheels.
4 years ago