Where is my home?

Come to think of it, is it necessary to have it anywhere in particular? No, I mean why does it have to be a fixed place.

I remember, I was twelve and I used to have this keen desire to run away. I used to feel that I did not belong there. Now that I am twenty one I still want to run away. I do not feel that I belong here either.

Maybe, I shall keep on running. Away from fixed places. Fixed people. Fixed notions. Why is it necessary to be belonged somewhere?

Yes, I do not feel the pangs of going to a specific place. They call it the gypsy instinct. Is it cooler that way? I do not know. 

But, if something is home. I feel it. It could be in the songs that make me remember you. Then it could float to the memories I have felt most alive. Part of my home is in everything and everyone I feel closer to. 

What could be more beautiful than this?

How should I not call this, this feeling, home?