7th of every month – the day when I take a break from everything in my life and take care of myself all day. It includes going out for a movie, eating pizzas at my favorite outlet, and then playing my favorite videogames. Sounds like a perfect day, right? Wrong.

As I sit on the comfortable recliner in my favorite movie theatre watching the movie I’ve been looking forward to from quite a lot of time, I realize there’s something inside me which is not happy. Something that is not okay. I ignore it and continue with pretending to be enjoying myself.

I go to my favorite pizza outlet and eat my favorite one but stop halfway through because something doesn’t feel right. It feels as if the pizzas aren’t the same as they used to be. In fact, I think about the days I would eat two medium pizzas at once and now I don’t even feel like eating at all.

I drive myself to this secluded place just outside the city, near a lake and I suddenly realize I haven’t felt home from quite a lot of time.

You know, being this kind of homeless is a different problem altogether. I have pretty much everything a person desires. Yet I feel empty. I seek a place where my mind and my heart is at peace. And I never find it. I travel a lot, trying to find home in those places. I meet a lot of people. I spend a lot of time with my friends, but still fail to find the home that I desperately need.

If home is a feeling, I’m homeless. But sometimes I think, maybe I was born to roam. Maybe I was born to be a wanderer (even though I don’t like it at all). Whatever it is, I think the day isn’t much far away when I’ll find a home. Until then, I roam.


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