home

"you know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? all of a sudden even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone.... it's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist. maybe it's like this rite of passage, you know. you won't ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. i don't know, but i miss the idea of it, you know. maybe that's all family really is. a group of people that miss the same imaginary place." -- garden state

i used to think my home was located in leroy, new york. but now that's just "my parent's house." i don't know where my "home" is -- maybe it's with the people i love or inside of me or maybe it doesn't exist. and as depressing as this thought seems, it's actually kind of liberating.