I don’t know how to get home. I’m not sure I’ve ever been there.
I’m not from this place. Not really. Yes, I was born here. On this planet, in this state, not far from where I sit. But I look around and know with certainty these are not my people. I don’t really understand them and they don’t understand me. We might as well be from different planets.
I’ve been looking for home since I was a small child. We didn’t stay any place for very long. From the beginning, it was a painful blur.
Birmingham, Washington, Atlanta, Knoxville, Meridian, Anniston, Oak Grove, Pensacola, Jasper.
It was a long line of new places, new people, new situations. I had a mother, then I didn’t. I had stability, then I didn’t. I craved love and attention and approval, but being perfect was the only way I knew to pursue them. And I wasn’t perfect.
I’ve longed for something all my life. I didn’t know what to call it. I’ve longed to find my home.

We’re neither friends nor enemies, just strangers who share the past
When love finally dies, it’s like a fever breaks and the pain is gone
Economic Man needs no heart, because love and God are dead
The free market: It’s not just for greedy, rich white capitalists
Pretty much everyone shrugs at my most life-changing discovery
FRIDAY FUNNIES
We already know what’s right, but we choose our lusts instead
Flashy ‘stimulus’ projects conceal truth that the state destroys wealth
N.C. Eagle Scout can’t graduate after accidentally bringing gun to school