I am always on the go. If not physically then mentally. My extraordinarily imaginative mind is always flying off to new destination every weekend. I am always having imaginary conversation with people whose face are just a blur. Always falling in love for the first time. To be honest, I have never really had a home. Half my life I was imprisoned to one place, one city. For four years I went to the same office and yet never cared to decorate my desk. Why? Because I was always waiting for that tomorrow when I would be out of there; once and for all. Even in the new city I am already planning for my escape route. Nope, I love it here. But people like me don't have homes. We just drift from one place to another. Always on the lookout for that distant horizon where the sun looks a little bit brighter. Always hoping to find that place where we would feel we truly belong to. I so wanna end up somewhere. Settle. Build a home. But I don't know where that somewhere is. I don't even know if I would be able to find it in this life. Maybe one life is not enough. Maybe I have been that drifting nomad since the beginning of time. And someday I would finally go home.

Nah, I still haven't organised my new desk here.