Why do we desire going home? And for that matter, what is home? I do know we aren't there. But, are you there? It's hard to be the only one convinced they're right. It becomes you against the world. Just the way we like it. Was there no other way? But, to embrace going home. One has to do that first before we know anything. It's the hope that it's everything we wished it would be. And if it isn't, then the jokes on me. Funny how nothing ever really changes.