i remember when

recently i saw and heard an elderly woman on a very new looking macbook air listening without headphones to something or someone screeching. perhaps a video of a grandchild. i was thinking that the elderly of that generation usually talk about manners and the way things were and wondered where her headphones were. but i also hear about the idea that they have lived long enough so they can do and get away with almost any damn thing they want. betty white’s new show, assuming it is still on, plays on this idea at times. grandma and her eccentricities.

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Naivety. Not to be confused with nativity.

I only throw that last part in there because someone did confuse it. I felt it was well placed will the original idea so I included it.

Life constantly throws things at us, sometimes directly into our face so fast we can’t avoid it, and probably for the best once we realize it.

Naive/Naivety. I’ve heard it being used to classify someone who lacked awareness as well as someone just because of their innocence.

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Is it truly where the heart is?

I thought it was simply a four (or less) chambered organ to pump blood around my body. who knew things were otherwise. Perhaps if the organ is removed and placed separately the home changes. Eww. Thinking about a heart transplant with something mechanical. If your old heart is somewhere else are you then never able to have a home again?

Some people take the time to make a home with someone else. Do the old ones become obsolete? Are they destroyed? Did they even exist to begin with?

People ask me, “Where is home?” Do we have to have one? If I’m “homeless” by choice or circumstances what then do I answer? “Nowhere?”

I have lived in a house for many years but I wouldn’t call it the home that I am referring to. I still have things in boxes from when I moved in. I never felt the want to set them out. Am I homeless inside a house? My mind is reeling. Ok not really from this but I did take some cough medicine last week and I’ll use that as the simulated analogy of my head spinning.

Perhaps I’m just a free spirit with loans and a mortgage, ready at a moments notice (and several months of cleaning and packing) to pick up and go to a new great adventure. A home, a thing for others to indulge in.

This intangible home thing/idea is so elusive. If you are with someone and still don’t feel at home, does that portend ill things for the future of the relationship?

Ah the late writings of a tired mind as I reflect on my life, where it was, where I think it is and where it could be.

In the end I think home is when you go somewhere and don’t want to be there anymore and long to be in that other place. The one where you feel more comfortable and relaxed. Hopefully it’s also the same place where you usually live and with the people you may be living with.

-Santa’s Fallen Angel