Naive Unprepared Traveler
Home has different meanings depending on a variety of factors and circumstances unique to an individual but to me home is where you can trust the toilet seat. Kidding ! In order to fully express what home means to me i’m gonna share a story that’s been embedded in my heart for 9 years. There once was a nomad who became infatuated with purpose. He grew weary of traveling and desperately sort out direction with a tangible destination. As time progressed the infatuation grew and the nomad began experiencing syncronicities aligned with purpose . This sparked a sort of mysticism in the nomads soul. Blissfully he ascended day to day month to month year to year always learning but never reaching a concrete destination. The nomad had acquired everything he thought would make him whole money, fame, women , social status but still felt as if he hadn’t arrived at what he began to strive for. One day the nomad came across a wizard who promised he could expedite an arrival at said destination. Without giving it a second thought the nomad agreed to the service. After the service the wizard laughed and vanished into thin air and the nomad quickly noticed something was off. The things he had learned throughout his journey were solidified into his consciousness and the world he had been so familiar with was now very strange. It was as if his mind was casted into a prison and the things he had learned throughout his journey became the shackles keeping him entangled. The nomad then vowed that he would dedicate the rest of his life to getting back home.
