My Place

Figuring out what people want from me is something that I have struggled with for the majority of my life. I miss a lot of verbal or physical indicators that are obvious to others. This makes me feel like a moron a lot. Whether or not I ever get the situation plagues the people close to me.

And now I'm back "home". What is home? Is it some place that you have lived in since early childhood? Is it where you grew up? Is it where you currently live? Is it where you feel at peace with yourself? Because I don't have that. I have lived in California my whole life, and yet I have hated it here since I was little. I have lived in this particular house for a few years, and I feel somewhat at peace in my room, but everybody just barges in and sits to talk without my permission. My childhood houses were scattered about Temecula and Escondido. Now I go to college in New York. And I never once felt at home.

My dog makes being here easier. I missed her the most when I was gone. Don't think I'm some asshole for this either...she was the only one that I couldn't talk to over the phone or message. But the fact that she is absolutely thrilled over my presence is welcoming. Even if my sister holds the stage and attention of my parents at the moment and I just hole up in my room while both my parents work.

I know that I shouldn't complain about not really feeling at home anywhere. There are plenty of people who have a just reason why they don't feel at home-military family, people who move around a lot, homeless people. But to tell the truth, I feel like this is staring me in the face and causing me to miss out on some truly amazing experiences.

I feel so alone. People surround me, and yet none of them understand how anyone could dislike the sun and heat, the city of hopes and dreams, the love and joy of the city. But I do. Los Angeles is the City of Broken Dreams. And I need to find the city where dreams are whole and unmolested to flourish.