home is where.

currently listening to
jesus christ by brand new

"home is where you hang yourself."

this quote describes without any imprecision the purpose of the home in my life.

i don't mean 'hang yourself' in the literal, suicidal sense. for some reason whenever i read that lyric it makes me think of hanging yourself like a jacket, on a beautifully detailed, hand carved coat rack, or slung around a metal hanger and shut behind the confines of the closet doors. my home is where i put myself, when i'm not using me, until i need me again.

there's no life within the walls of my home, it's like i've entered another world. life doesn't progress, it just stands still. i sit around, doing nothing, just waiting until i have to leave again.

i find it sad that the purpose of what's supposed to be a warm, comforting place is really the last place i ever want to be.