I go home and it doesn’t feel like home. It feels more of a transient shelter than a home.
I have my family there, but I feel like I am not part of it.
Ever since I was a child, I always yearned for a sense of belonging. Seems like I can never fit in anywhere, even in my own home.
They always say home is where the heart is, I think mine was lost somewhere deep in the sea.
Home is a place of peace, of belonging and love. My home is bound on the amount of money you give, on silence, and fake smiles.
My family is perfect on records, but basically an empty shell.
I’d rather wander someplace else than go home, because home is a sense of family, mine has no family, its just a house.
I really cant wait for the day I leave that house.
He is happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace in his home. -Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe