Home

A little something about homes.

Home, a very original title ik. Maybe I can write about the home I was born in, or the home I want my kids to be born in, or the home that all of us are trying to find idk. Let’s just consider this work as a conversation between me and you. I’m sure you know that the story of a butterfly starts somewhere and then ends in a completely different place. I wonder what do they consider home. What would happen if a butterfly decided to not follow the rest of the butterflies and stay at the place where it was born. I’m sure that place would be safe and secure for it, it surely did spend the first half of its lifecycle at that place itself. Then why do they all leave?

Idk the actual reason might have something to do with the weather or something but it makes for a good metaphor right? Like somehow nature is trying to tell us that you must keep moving and not stay at one place, it might be that the place you grew up in gave you a lot of love security and everything you have right now but maybe what you have right now is just the start. You’re supposed to do bigger than that. Maybe you’re supposed to spread the love somewhere else or understand the world better so you know what the place you’ve always called home lacked. Writing about my home in this sense isn’t making me feel too comfortable. Maybe that’s why I should explore this thought.

My home, where is my home? Is the place I grew up in my home or the place where my kids will grow up? Is this the people I grew up with? or the people that’ll grow up with me? Maybe its not this complicated at all, maybe I don’t need to worry about this at all right now, i’m 24 I don’t have kids so I’ll leave it at this right now.

Home for me right now is all the people that love me more than I deserve. As a butterfly I’ll also be open to change, I’ll adapt and grow wings if needed. Idk about a home but I’m a 100% sure that someday I’ll find a place to peacefully die in.