Pillows and such...

I've been thinking a lot about the whole concept of "home" lately. I've lived in so many places, so many different countries, continents, houses, apartments, and traveled to so many more, that I could honestly not count the amount of beds I've slept on or the number of pillows I've laid my head on at night.

There are people who can't sleep well if they're not in their own bed. That never really happened to me. I'm so used to being homeless, that whenever asked "Where is home?" I usually answer "wherever I lay my head at night..." That's been true for the last 12 years, at least.

It's funny, because when I was a kid, I wanted to live in Brasilia my whole life. I always wanted to travel and see the world, but I had never considered living elsewhere... Brasilia is where I was born, and where I grew up. The weather is wonderful, the scenery is beautiful, there's a lot of natural beauty around and plenty of places to explore outside the city. The city itself is quite small for a capital, and I know it better than the palm of my own hand. I know it so well that you can probably take a random picture of any corner of the city, show it to me, and I can tell you exactly where it is. No joke. For the first half of my life, it was definitely "home".

It lost the title of "home" when I moved away and discovered that there were other places in this world where I felt more at home than there. Places where I "fit" better, although I've started to discover that maybe it's more due to the fact that I'm as adaptable as a chameleon, than to the actual environment around me. But during the last 12 years, I had gone to the other extreme and said that I definitely did NOT want to live there.

However, I don't know if it's because I'm growing old (yes, happens to the best [and the worst] of us), or because I've grown tired of change, or simply because the weather is getting to me and I miss the warmth of the sun on my skin... but lately everytime I think of "home", Brasilia comes to mind. Ironic, isn't it?

Does the prodigal son always come home? Will there be a party if he does?

...Something to think about...