For a New Home

The lights click on.

The spotlight focuses on center stage.

And all I need is to take one, two, three steps.

One, two and three.

And will the world suddenly turn alive?

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The way I see it, everybody in this world is an island, just drifting out in the vast sea we call our home. Drifting and drifting, far and near. Sometimes, we land near great coastline, where we all came from. The land mass we all consider family. The place where we came from. Home.

But we all need our own place eventually.

That's when we start our journey. Our search. Our quest.

It's all a quest for belonging.

For some of us, we get lucky, and we find a nice archipelago to stay with. A group to drift the sea together with. Others who will shelter you, share your pain, and share your moments. And it's nice. It's really nice. But it isn't permanent, is it?

Eventually, you'll all drift apart again, one by one, leaving with each slight current, so slight that none of you even notice you've separated, until they've all gone past the horizon. That's when you realize you're on your own again. And it's fine. It's completely fine. Since you expected it anyways, no?

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"Hey, Alec, how was the show?"

I shrug.

"Alright. The usual."

"Cool man."

"Yeah..."

There was silence.

"Do you ever get tired of where you are?"

He gawked at me.

"What are you talking about dude?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, but, man, you've got the life! The fame, the fortune. How could you get tired of that? You've found you place, kiddo, you've found your calling."

"That's the thing. Maybe I haven't."

Because if I did, why aren't I happy?

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The point of us venturing out into the big bright world is to find ourselves. Or, at least, that's what they say.

We go out to search, to seek, to find a place where we belong. A home outside of home. Warmth. Happiness. Love.

Sometimes, just as we think we've found that nice place to stay, we get pushed off course by a storm. Or maybe, we think we can see our destination straight ahead of us, but a sudden wind shoves us off the path.

Sometimes, it's all torn from us.

And what can we do, right? We have no choice over the weather. We have no choice in fate.

So then, why does it still hurt to face the fact?

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She was stuttering.

"I-I'm so e-excited to finally see you!!! I'm like, your b-b-biggest fan!!!"

I smiled.

"Well, I'm happy to meet you. Would you like me to sign your shirt?"

"Y-yes please! To Erika, please."

I did as I was told.

"There we go!"

More smiles. More lights. More people.

She squealed.

"T-t-thank you so much!!!!!"

"No problem."

No problem.

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Sometimes, we get anchored down in the middle of nowhere.

Sometimes, we get lost.

But that's alright. It's all fine.

Because that's just how we live, and that's just the way we have to go.

We're all lost little islands, out at the big, merciless sea. And all we can do, is go with it all, and hope that someday, maybe, we might just find out place.

All for a new home.

All for a new home.