Where It's Left To Stand

At this point I can't even remember the places in my own home that are left to be explored. I've lived in here for more years than I could count on my hand, yet, I sit. Sitting on the same stool of my kitchen. On the same corner of a bed. On the same shelf left, cleaned for me to sit upon. On the unfamiliarly comfortable chair which I didn't dare to sit when my eyes peered upon it for the first and yet, last - this - time.

There's so much to explore, but now, it's getting harder. So I'll just tell what I've counted on my other hand, while my first still counts the days I've lived in here.