Two months. Since I came here. Since I made this place home.

What is home? In the last four years I have shifted almost 6 times. I have stayed at different places. And I have loved every place. I have made each place mine, in my own little way. But I have changed so many homes. Now I don’t seem to know what is home.

A place which gives you a pillow to rest your head on each night? That place is home. Someday I will move again. I know I will. I can’t stay in one place for a long time. I can’t do the same thing for a long time. It bores me. More so because, monotony saddens me. Everyday is different for me. Apart from waking up on my left side each day, every day is different. Each day I am a different person. I live in a make believe world. Not fantasy. Just make believe.

Two months since I came here. it seems longer. I feel older.