As I got into my car after work Thursday, I felt a vague sense of unease. Something felt wrong. But what was it?
There was something wrong. Something was missing.
I went through a mental checklist, but there was nothing obvious. I wasn’t especially hungry or thirsty. There was no pressing need that I was overlooking. But I felt a wave of crushing emotion and then a thought hit me.
“I want to go Home.”
As the waves of emotions rushed over me, I knew what was going on. I wasn’t feeling a sudden need to go to the house where I live. I was filled with the crushing need for something which we all know in a deep part of our unconscious collective psyche.
Home isn’t just the place where we live. Home is a state of being in which we’re where we belong, among people who love us, where we fit and are accepted. To be Home is to experience the magic of knowing you are exactly where you need to be.

Watching a friend’s happy family makes me feel pangs of jealousy
When the state turns you into a criminal, friends become enemies
My ideal woman will never exist, but I keep falling in love with her
Goodbye, Anne (2009-2019)
Goodbye, Merlin (2003-2022)
Does the ocean offer the best chance of escaping the state?
We can’t control timing of death, just what we do as we’re waiting
Taking Donald Trump seriously means ‘Idiocracy’ is already here