Home is...

I’m at home.

After all those stupid unfortunate events, I could reach my home afterall.

Home where I spent most of my time as a high-schooler.

Home where my parent and my littler brother is.

Home.

Home sweet home.

Is it?

Some say that “home is where the (figurative) heart is”.

I agree. As a college student who lived not-so faraway from a place where he spent most of his time as a high-schooler, I agree.

But then, time changes.

(Sometimes) I feel weird. Feel weird to this place, to this so-called home.

At my home, I miss my that-place-where-I-stay-in-not-so-faraway-place.

At that place, I miss my home.

Funny. But that’s what I feel.

Then, what’s home for me?

Some place that I’ll miss but couldn’t live in it?

Utopia?

Am I overexaggerating this thing?

Maybe. I guess.

So... home, eh?