My ideal place

I'd want a roof over my head. I'd have a girlfriend not too far away. I'd want a bookstore and a movie store nearby. There would be a computer and a garden with food and flowers. It would be small and cozy. I'd always have something new to learn. It would be quiet and peaceful so I could do yoga and meditate. A place where I felt safe. It could be either in the country or city. My means of transportation would be a really nice bike and I could write to my heart's content. All the dreams of the world would be realized and prevail because they'd have a place to blossom and flourish and I, I would have a modest, humble hand to play. I would play my hand, and it would not only be dealt righteously but played with the skill of a master. I would not rest until the fiddler has fiddled his last tune and carressed his violin with his bow as a mother caress's her child, and it sings a soft sad joyous tune and then goes forever silent, a cracked liberty bell that has done its duty and sits in dust and I have bowed and politely left the stage in the manner of a thespian.