When I miss home I think about what home really is.
How do we define it? How do you accurately describe home to someone
In one or two sentence.
Every time I look out my airplane window, I am home. I am clouds and the sky and the jet stream carrying 130 souls to their homes.
Or maybe not. Maybe we are all perpetually lost with the intention of never being found
Maybe we were made to fly and those who have accepted that as their fate are the ones who can make a home anywhere.
Maybe the nomads, the gypsies, the ones with wanderlust
Are the ones who know what happiness is
Because they are not rooted to places or things.