For a while I thought its time to be living life rather than (keep thinking about) going away for holiday every now and then but I was told to be suited anytime to be a tour guide. For once I guess if I dont have a family I must be one of those that term the world as my home, to be always moving about. Not that I envy such a life, especially without a family, without an anchor, but I guess a large part of me always wanted to travel (frequently and extensively) and I find myself more and more ready to face the challenges aboard and on my own. Its yet when I travel (for too long) that I want to be home. Which makes me think what constitute to this term called home. The place that I feel safe and comfortable, clean and familiar, the place that has everything that I can call mine, the place that has my family, the place that has my room and everything I might be in possession of. Jus that little existence on Earth that I am happy to be stuck in all day long. Even if my widest dream has always been to uproot myself from here and move to another country without remaining in contact with all that I know. And the reason being the fact that I feel stuck (all the time) and I want to do this at least once.

I was told that this is a very strange idea. But the fact is I think I am working towards equipping myself the ability to do so.

So one day if I would to uproot from wherever I am now to some place far, I guess no one will know till it happens. Then I wonder aloud if I will maintain my favorite blog but I guess the answer is a surprising and rare- No.