Lighthouses: Creative Challenge

Think of people like houses. There are some with big front yards all covered up with flowers and tall trees to shelter their homes with. Once inside, your steps make the floor squeak, your hands touch an empty table all covered up in dust and there is no light or stove to turn on. While you walk and explore the space, the smell of abandonment floods your nose while spider webs caress your face. You don’t feel warm and fuzzy, you feel scared. There are many, for example the suburban lookalikes that have it all. They look nice inside and out, they’ve got everything you need to live, but somehow hey just feel wrong. Walls are not that thick, the floor gives you the sensation that it could fall anytime, and every piece of material on it feels like are not made to last; most of all, they lack authenticity.
 The ones that come with micro-wastelands in front of them may look horrible outside. It takes courage to get in, but once you manage to get through the front, probably with the help of a machete or something, you reach the door. You play knock-knock and no one responds. They say only the right hand can get through, I wonder if these knobs have a fingerprint reader. Once, I’ve tried to turn it with my feet, but it seems that was not really up to me to get in after all. I visited many houses, many like these and I failed to get inside all the times but one. 
 It feels like this: you don´t even need to touch de knob while a whole new world welcomes you in. You enter and then, just then, you discover that place full of things you can play with, explore, read, watch and see; there’s space to do whatever you like, time seems to slow down and the temperature is perfect. Afternoons are bliss, a soft breeze kisses your skin and orange-colored light gets in warming the scene and making it ever more peaceful. It’s something else. Once inside you can actually say there’s no place like home, it’s not yours, but you feel welcome and homebound, but in a good way. 
 When you get out it’s just like when you got in. You didn’t force it, it just happened and there’s nothing you can do. I got out, the door won´t open, not anymore. When it happened I’ve realized that I’ve been out of myself for a while, out of my own house. 
 That day was a sad one; I’ve got calm and tried really hard not to think of anything. “We must supply our own light”, a phrase from Stanley Kubrick crossed my mind. Nevertheless, the realization that I would never feel reach that place again overwhelmed me. I was homesick from a house that wasn’t mine. I wept all night and felt miserable. My house was a mess, so I started cleaning it, while sweeping the floor the same words came into mind, the ones about light, the radio was playing “Shine on you crazy diamond”. I’m the pay attention to the signs kind of person. In that instant something inside clicked. 
 That was the day I built myself, not tall or pompous structure; but I turned my little house into something else. The chimney got high, really high and a little wider too; I also installed a little room with big lights on top of it. I’m not even placed near a shore or something but I’ve decided I would turn myself into a light house, in a precarious DIY way, but a lighthouse any less. I did it, but it’s a constant process of improvement and maintenance; sometimes, the lights are not that bright but I try really hard to keep them on and strong inside an out. I share this light with people that get inside and those who look from far below. I now feel like home in my home, now that there’s light and I supply my own.
 So, what kind of house are you? Go figure it out, spread the virus and shine on crazy chimney!

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