You are four walls and a leak-proof roof and if you want you can keep your furnace burning all year round. I’ve built a home for myself inside of myself where I know I can keep the most important things safe. Treat your body gently. If your body itself is like a hollow home, freshly painted, new windows and floors, then your soul is the drapery, the carpets, the cups you choose to fill your kitchen cabinets with. Fill yourself with beautiful things. Fill yourself with late night conversations and things that keep you young and steal constellations and tie them around your ankles and swing yourself silly across state lines and hold hands with everyone you love, regardless of who you love. Fill yourself with words — all the words. Not just the ones that keep you safe. Read poetry as instruction manuals. Watch movies like they’re teaching you how to live. Drill holes in your heart that filter out all the things that are hurting you. Don’t let them hurt you. Go to concerts and fall in love underneath the moonlight and fall in love underneath fluorescent lights and fall in love with the light. Surround yourself with things you love, people you love. Buy yourself flowers. Treat yourself nicely. Take off your pants and make tea and eat blueberries until you feel like a blueberry. Sleep with the windows open in the summertime and listen to the conversations between bluejays. Clutter yourself or keep yourself clean, but make your internal room as beautiful or as raw as you want to be. Do what you want. It’s your body. It’s your home.