Home Sweet Home

Tonight I will go home and start packing. It will be close to 2 a.m. when I start. And probably about 5 by the time I'm done.

When you move as much as I do, you learn to live simply.

It will only take my a few hours to put almost everything I own in a few measly boxes. I think I like my things best when they're all stuffed in the back of my car.

In the past year I've had five different homes. And on Friday I will make it six.

In one year I've moved at least eight times - that I can remember. That's across four different cities in two states.

While I've never been homeless, I have been without a home.

The place I grew up in is like another world. I don't recognize it on the inside. Nor do I want to. Now it's just the place where my parents live, where I used to.

Sometimes the people that live there are like strangers to me. The walls are painted. The furniture is new. And so is the kitchen.

My mom asks why I never visit anymore. Maybe because there's nothing left for me. I've been in prisons that I'd sooner go back to.

When you know you're only living somewhere just enough time to get settled, you never get settled. That makes leaving easier. Like you were never really there to begin with.

And while I've never been homeless, I have been without a home for some time now.

Maybe that's why I feel so comfortable on the road. Cuz in the end, it's all just a journey. Wherever we are, we're always leaving somewhere or something behind for something new. Always leaving. Always arriving.

And the highway is the perfect representation of this. Cuz on the road, we're never stopped.

Always moving. Always leaving. Always arriving.