Home

It's been a while since I've posted on this thing. I guess I'm just not good as I used to be with blogs. I find better comfort in my written journals. It's more personal for me. As for all you stalkers (barely any), I guess this this how most of you can keep in touch with my "feelings & thoughts."

What home can really mean to me? In a literal sense, it appears I have multiple homes. I'm welcome in all sorts of places. Can I really still call this apartment home? To be honest, it grew on me--then, in a heartbeat, it kind of stopped.


Yes, I have a dog, but my roomates feel it's best to get rid of him as sweet as he is sometimes. Majority rules, right? It sucks. I wish it could be like that Disney movie where a little Hawaiian girl trains her "pet" to be good. There's some good in my dog underneath all his monstrosity, but I digress.

Home is where the heart is, but what happens when you feel like you can find your heart in multiple places? Maybe I should invest in putting tracking devices on all my pieces, capture them all, and harvest them in one spot. I wish.

I keep missing how things used to be. I try to think things don't suck right now, but I feel like I'm falling yet again. I take each day little by little and try to listen to the maternal voice in my head--"Don't do this, don't do that." I'm still trying to figure out if I belong here. I'm still trying to figure out what I'm doing with my life. It all seems a little too hard. It seems like it has been forever since I could think to myself, "I am exactly where I need to be."