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#what is home?

m trying n trying to ask myself. what is home? i start to feel down whenever i think of this. it’s just a dull word to annoy my destination.

i wanna do this. i can’t. i wanna do that. i can’t. can’t do this, can’t do that, what can i do, huh? plz tell me. i wanna know. what can i do? and now, i wanna leave home. i wanna leave home. u hear me? i wanna leave home. but… but not run away. again, leave home, not run away.

leave home? hmmm… i wanna leave for my freedom. esp freedom of expression. i wanna do sth that i like. i wanna like sth i do. no need to ask another to approve. no need sb to color me.

i know m weird n super weird. m not good. m not bad. but being the last one in this family, m tired. i know it’s not ur mistake. but i don’t want sb to judge u as a murderer one day. plz let me go. m tired of being a slave of emotion.

One comment on “#what is home?

  1. I don’t know where my home is. I think there is no home on earth for my kind. home supposed to be a place where there is peace, people who understand my nature, or accept whoever or whatever I am. But I haven’t found such place yet. I’m longing for a home like everyone else. but…but… no

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