....so I was thinking

I'm not exactly sure why I wanted this blog to look different from the rest, but I did, and I do. Perhaps it's that I feel different, not totally myself lately, but that is a different story altogether. What I was thinking about recently is the stages of just growing up. How all at once you realize that you just don't belong at home anymore. Sure you go back for visits because you miss the family, the aroma of your favorite foods, the sounds of the early morning, and then it happens. You are standing in the the middle of the kitchen and you can't find the glasses. You open one cabinet and then another to no avail becoming more and more frustrated. This is home and you are suppose to know where the glasses are, but you put the milk back on the shelf and close the door and walk away............to think.

Time has a way of changing things and people. Your friends, they just aren't the same either. They do things differently, or is it them or is it me that changed? Or did they stay the same? Why did I leave home in the first place? I wanted to see the world, experience new things, believe that there are possibilites beyond that of the small scope of my village. My friends are still seeing life within the confines of the pair of glasses they were issued in junior high school. I'm wondering what they are waiting on, when they will venture out into the world or even if they will.

A friend of mine and I talked about this once. He had been far away from home and was back for a visit and found himself lonely although he was surrounded by his childhood friends. He could not relate to them any longer in the same way he could before he left. They asked rediculous questions like, did you kill anyone or did you see dead people. "How do you answer that," I'd asked him. "I didn't." he simply said. It's ignorance mostly, not hurtfulness that anyone would ask such a question; they are simply out of touch.

You change as a result of what happens to you when you leave home. But in some absolutely unexplainable way home just doesn't change. It's like a time warp for everything except the glasses. I can't find the glasses. Somehow, I think to myself if I could just walk into the kitchen and pour a glass of milk without searching for the glasses, everything else would fall into place.