I miss home today. Which is weird because I don’t really know what home is. Home is ambiguous. Is it that place where I spent the sixteen years of my life, from where are attached my memories of loved and lost ones? Or is it that place where I was supposed to have been born and brought up in, if everything had gone according to plan.? Or is it this city that I currently live in, that I feel attached to and detached from every other minute, the intensity of the two conflicting feelings so strong that it could only be compared to feeling bipolar? I don’t know. I don’t even know if it’s home I am missing, or just the feeling of belonging somewhere, anywhere.

Maybe, however, it’s not a tragic story. Maybe I truly belong to many spaces and places. Instead of belonging nowhere, I belong to a lot of places at the same time. However, that brings me pain too. Because then I am nothing but a puzzle. If I need to search for myself, where do I start? What do I take with me on this journey of discovering, (or recovering) myself? What part of me should I let go of? I do not know. Unlike usually, where I am exhaustingly optimistic, I am not going to end this post on a hopeful note. I am just going to wish as I type these words that one day, I will be home, wherever that might be.


About kikiyo2011

Yes. I am a ragabash. I love eating, singing (though I am no good at it), and writing random things. I like to consider myself as a hilarious person, but those people who are unfortunate enough to read my blog should know that my comedy is slapstick, so you wont find it in my writing. Still...please read my blog. Otherwise I might dance on the streets of my city naked (cant take rejection).
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