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Thomas Wolfe once said, you can never go home again. And maybe he was correct as in, home is never going to be the same place that you left.
I noticed a few things, some things that seemed big, now seemed small, some things that seemed dull, now seemed to hold a new meaning – like stretched out fields of green with no real structures other than homes, and hours of endless solitude, times to spend lost in a day dream, times to remember – when.
Perhaps you never can go home again because home is always different. Some say that home is where the heart is, and I guess that I can agree to that. That home is wherever I am, and you is.
Home is all around us, is everything. You hear silent molecules echoing wild wind blows the squish of berry between your toes resounds in your heads and suddenly you are filled with laughter childhood memories, and flowing off upon the wind is what might have been.
Now’s the time to release it
Like sand amidst heavy diamonds or pieces of gold the unnecessary blows off and leaves you with your tray of treasures.
I write this article, as I think about our country, as I think about our world, us as a collective. The many and various lot of us, and I think about what we are dreaming, and what we are doing, and where we are headed
And the word that I come up with is perfect.
& a person in my life who I find very beautiful said it perfectly when he said in regards to political views and the system – everything is perfect
Now let’s believe that it is, and let go of the heavy and focus on the love
Go home Los Angeles… world. Go home to yourself, to your hearts. Xo
By Ashley Davene