I wrote this about a month ago, while listening to ‘comfort’  by Rusty Clanton, a song I would definitely recommend listening to in general, but especially while reading this. It is a little shorten than usual, but it just a splur of thoughts, quickly written down on paper. The thoughts I had while listening to the song I mentioned above. I am not even sure if I agree with everything I am saying, but it is a lovely trail of thoughts, I felt like sharing.

Comfort. Laying in bed, pillows and blankets all around me, keeping me warm. Hugging me with their softness and warmth. I hide from the world, creating my own fort. Away from feelings, hiding from humans, but maybe in desperate need of a human to hug. Being comforted by big arms, wrapped tightly around my body. Or perhaps I need to be alone. Lay in my fort of pillows, read something, write something, light a nice candle and feel so utterly comfortable that it seems impossible to ever get up and be confronted with my problems. In desperate need of a human?
Comfort. I struggle with what comfort is for me. Is it my pillows, my blanket, the smell of my lovely candle, or is it rather smooth skin rubbed against mine. Having hands to run mine through, to talk to someone so deeply and afterwards press my lips against his. A person whom I can talk to at all times, someone whose hand I can grab whenever I want. A boy who hugs me so tightly and holds me longer than anyone else has ever done. I guess it is a different kind of comfort. A person isn’t as soft as a blanket , but a blanket won’t comfort me when I am drowning. It won’t pull me back up. I only know the comfort of a blanket, the softness of a pillow. Even though I can imagine what the comfort of a person must be like, I am not sure. I don’t really know, until I won’t need blankets and pillows anymore, which I am not sure of, because, maybe we all need blanket and pillows from time to time.For now I’ll stay in my fort. I’ll be on the lookout, but I am actually quite comfortable here.