This one was long due. Not that it’s going to be great. I’m currently slightly under the effect of alcohol, and other things, so I’m trying to be as coherent as I can.
I was home for a week. It was a friend’s house, and it was home. It will be home forever, even if I’m gone. And I managed to somehow over-stay. And the last few days were not half as enjoyable as the first few. Nevermind.
But here’s the deal. Everytime I leave back some nice memorable days behind, it just makes me tougher. It makes me speak lesser, it makes me laugh lesser, it makes my company less and less enjoyable. Everytime I come home I am happy, eveytime I leave home, I’m sad. Not sad cuz I’m leaving home, but sad that… nevermind, again. And it’s nobody’s fault, really. That’s not what I’m writing this for. I’m writing this for the great awesome time I had.
We drove out today, to the middle of no-where. We lit our pipes, finished half a pack, stared at the open, open and endless dark star-lit sky, felt light in the head, and let the distant howling of the dogs not bother us. We lay on the car muzzle, made up imaginary constellations, looked out for shooting stars, found one, the guy who saw it made a wish, and we wished his wish comes true. We got soaked in the moistness of the grass, tried in vain to make each other feel like a kid by speaking abt childhood, while all the while what each of us wanted was silence.
Silence, with a pack of cigarettes can be your best friend. But to get that feel, make sure you don’t believe in the respiratory volume of your lungs. Smoke not until u stink of tobacco, but smoke till u feel it’s too late to be out, into no-where, no-where that a modern GPS can trace. I wasn’t at the Amazon, easy.
So, what do we take back from a visit back home. More importantly, it’s illogical what u can do to be home. You borrow money, buy tickets, relying on a friend for a connecting drive, over-populate Craigslist with possible ride-shares, get no reply, but still set off for home, away from home. Most interestingly, when u come home, u don’t bother of a way to get back. I’m lucky to get a ride back, but if I hadn’t, I dunno, I had no plan in place. I just wanted to get home, period.
Come Monday and I’ll be back to work full steam. I WILL NOT have the feeling of home-sickness, it doesn’t exist. You don’t feel home-sick if u’re not a mamma’s boy anymore. Thank you. I will not have an urge to go back either. Instead, I probably will be good for six more months. Work like a machine for six more months, be all by myself for six more months. Did I say six more months? Sorry, make it two-three years. Make it two+three years. Make it far far away, and probably keep it open only through phone calls.
Does it pain to leave? Sure it does, but then, everyone has to leave!
P.S.
Home also means good food and lots of sacrifice on the part of the person making it. Hats off.
Thanks V for the ride, without which the dots wouldve stayed disconnected.
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