Emoh

We all start off waking up somewhere, then after a period of time we do this coming to and slipping out of consciousness, experiencing our surroundings, becoming innundated with sensory projections of reality, and then we are told that this "place" is home. This is where we belong. We have potluck dinners, we play out in the woods, we build bridges and then we ultimately burn them down. Or maybe that's just me.

This place that has been created in my mind as the place where rednecks work on cars and the old folks stroll about town only to make the epic climax of their daily story to...check the mail(?) Where me and my buddies blow shit up out in the country. Where we swim up the river to this hidden 100 ft waterfall that only very few locals know about. This is the place where I discovered lust, pain, disappointment, sheer joy, complete loneliness and isolation. This place that felt so pure and so completely fucked up, I called it home.

Today, many years later, I walk around this ghost town feeling this deep sense of longing for this place. Even though I have taken one unrelentless step after the other running...no sprinting the fuck out of this place. There was no responsibility or obligation that kept me from leaving. I left and left but everyone was still here. Then I'd come back again a few years later and then someone would be gone. Then I'd come back again, then another person leaves until at last I find the person that has ALWAYS been here who I thought would just never change, has done just what I swore he wouldn't, he's peacing out. Kissing his family and loved ones goodbye to pursue his midwestern life with his bride to be. Now, I look around this town of ghosts and I know that this place does not exist. It is no longer here. I can't just ride my bike 3 miles up the road and go skinny dipping. It's gone. This place that I have created through experience is no more.

This is not so much about my good friend finally packing his shit and leaving. I don't have any fear or regret for him. I am unbelievably stoked for him to start his new life. I actually don't really care about that as much as I should but what this is all about is this theme that I struggle with, home. The good book says that I am a stranger here, that my home is not here. Yet, I have spent my entire life searching for that feeling of belonging. That old cliched generic feeling of residence.