Somehow a missing person just exacerbated the feeling.

Its okay if you don't know what I mean.

Its not the same here.

As much as it pains me to go back. As much as he keeps railing on about how its his home, and I have to listen to him there. As much as I realize its so much better here. Its not like I hate this place.

But that place, his home.

Its my home too.

I don't miss it.

I miss my room, I miss....

Okay its just my room.

I miss the comfortable feeling it gives me.

I'm roomsick if there's even such a thing.

Well, its the only home I've got.

My head screams Boston, but my heart says no.

Just another starstruck (see above for evidence*) wanderer trying to find his way in this horribly confusing and sometimes messed up world.

This space as you might have realised is for my own venting. It's where I talk, to myself. To the universe. It's where I don't lie. Much. Chances are you won't get more truth out of me than these few billion pages of angst.

My life isn't that bad. Sometimes. The good parts just usually end up being the blank dates in between the posts you see. So yes, just to practice my math and to cheer myself up a little, the number of posts is inversely proportional to my mental wellbeing. Yes that counts as math with me.

And despite the wry smile on my face and the grin I can imagine on yours, I'm still rather sombre.

I promise you I'm sunny somedays. Stick around. You never know what you may learn.

*hint may or may not be in big black font at the top of the page.