Tonight I have come to the conclusion that you can never really come home again, because the people that once also made their home there, and with which you had built up a nice community, no longer have homes there. The characteristics you've come to expect from your home, and the people that are there, have changed, or been diverted into another area, or it turns out where never really there to begin with. It becomes a terrible game of trying to catch and hold onto the past, only to have it slip out of your fingers as another major symbol of your life fades away, or is destroyed. Memories become generalizations, which then become lonely one-liners, reaching their tendrils out from the past, trying to pull you back in. So you let them, you drift back through time, and all you have are fuzzy images, and the past traps you into certain patterns that you can't break out of with simple little talks. Drastic action is required, ripping force, important decisions must be made, and only then can you truly stand unaffected by the ravages of time and change. This requires not being a nice guy, it requires being realistic, and honest with yourself. But if your the only one being honest, if everyone else is adding to the difficulty by making sure everything is coated in the fog of doubt, then those tendrils will tie you down and cut into you. The past will be impossible to enjoy, as you are forced to repeat the same patterns over and over again, until finally you have to cry out and simply run away. Well, I don't want to run away, I want some honesty, some down to earth, no bullshit, hey I'm supposed to be your friend who you can tell stuff to no matter what honesty. Forget feelings now, for a small wound over time can kill just as fast as a big one inflicted all at once. Let lives be lived knowing full well what is going on, and then, only then, can we all grow and be happy.