Sometimes I think that I have no home. Home is more than just where you things are, where your family is, where you can say your from; its the familiarity you feel, the sense of belonging and knowledge that makes you feel like you should be there, that makes you want to say there, to return there. People say that home is where you grew up, but when where you grew up changes and develops like is inevitable in this day and age, is this place still really your home? When the friends you once relied upon, who you shared you feelings, your regrets, your hope, your dreams with tell you "she's the new you", are they still your friend?

How can we call this cold, sterile atmosphere our home? As humans, we change and we develop just because that's our nature. But what happens we change too slowly, while everything around us speeds ahead?