Ok sooo..this was a bit of a lot for the first entry ever… its mostly me going crazy at not fitting in and not being understood. typical teenager stuff haha lol lmao!!../s
Basically, a bit of a vent? This whole Home stuff tho is something i think about a whole lot, so is likely to be a recurring thing… anyway, enjoy my uhh vent? Idk man, who is reading this apart from me? (also please excuse any errors, it's just a silly blog after all)

I want to go Home. not my house, Home. im sorry if you dont understand, and the only reason i might think that people wont understand is because no one i know irl does. I have never talked to them about this, and have never tried to explain it or try to have a nice nuanced conversation about it, but i know they dont. I know from the way they reacted to how i used to be, how they talked about how weird and delusional i was. Let me explain.

    A year or two ago, when i actually started having friends, i was in LOVE with pirates. (and i still definitely am, i just dont talk abt it to irl friends much anymore…cos of this. Dramatic, i know) i loved pirates because they reminded me of home ( a home that i have never been to, and doesn’t exist). I sound insane, pirates were fierce, life as a pirate was fucking terrible 9/10 times. But think about it. I longed to sleep on a boat, have the rocking of the waves lul me to sleep. To wake up, and walk on deck to see nothing but the sea everywhere you look, the fresh salty breeze, the freedom to be whoever you want. To have a crew who HAS to put up with you really, a weird sort of family, cos while you're out at sea you're stuck with each other. Yes, it's pretty romanticized, but i honestly dont care. Now, Home isnt out at sea, but its pretty fucking close. Anyway, i would often say how badly i wanted to be a pirate. All my friends knew this, i didnt go a day without saying it. I always said how nice it would be, how i would thrive, trade my life for that one in an instant. At the time, i didnt think anyone TRULY understood, cos i never got to have a proper conversation about it, but i thought they understood enough for me to not be completely alone and weird in thinking like this.

Sooo um actually, they didn't get it like, at all. Yay!

Not super long ago, i was talking to a friend of mine about who knows what, but i remember they said something like “wow, remember when you thought you were a pirate? Haha! You even tried stealing stuff and were soo bad. And then everyone stole stuff off of you, and you didnt even notice? LOL haha! You were really weird and delusional lol!”

…

I certainly didn't think I was a pirate. I wanted to be one, or well, have a similar life to what I knew was a romanticized version. And stealing shit was unrelated btw, i just did that cos it was funny. It was just a thing i did, and was doing for, like, ages. (obvs i would give the stuff back like, as soon as they noticed, or as soon as i couldn't be bothered anymore..) Once they said that i knew they didnt get it. But why would they? Maybe they just have always fit in somewhere, to some extent. I suppose they were always with someone, never completely alone most places they went. I just guess they werent picked on, treated like an ugly puppy with with no fwiends, like a weird robot that always has answers but boy oh boy, has never laughed or even smiled! What a weirdo. I suppose they had a nice relationship with their parents, never had to pretend to be someone else for absolutely everyone. I suppose people, more often than not, believed them when they cried, or when they thought something was wrong or right or unjust.
    I cannot expect people to understand, especially if i dont explain myself. But i fear even if i do, i will be mocked and ridiculed, and still no one will get it. They will still laugh. in their minds, they’ll laugh alongside me not at me. But they are killing me. I need someone to understand. I need someone to feel the same as i do. I do not want to be alone in this. I cant be. I need to go Home. This place drives me insane.

Maybe i should explain what Home is to me.
The closest and easiest thing to say is my… oc…world… ..cringe! i know, but bare with me.
Its a lot about the people, but also about the place of course. Home is far away, nowhere near the city. A house, in a clearing in the woods, in the middle of nowhere, right near a beach. You can hear the sea, it is practically at your back doorstep. It is warm, cosy. You live alone, there is no one telling you to do anything, no one getting overly upset because you did something wrong. Again. You can be you. No one here thinks i am a girl, here i am nobody's daughter. But its also about the people. People who know who you are. They know you. People who understand, even though they probably dont feel the same about some stuff. People who see you as you are. People who want to talk, who wont leave, who care about what you have to say. Im not trying to insinuate that my friends are bad. They are brilliant and amazing and i love them. But sometimes, i wish they understood more of me. Now though, most of them understand me pretty well (well, not the one who said that abt me thinking i was a pirate but…they are lovely anyways.)

But i know one day, i will be Home. i cant be there right now, but soon enough i will be. I just have to work, and wait. One day i’ll look back and be astonished at how this era of my life was even real. I will make it, i'm sure. And if you are reading and feel the same way, i promise you, you'll make it too. You will get through this, you’ll make it Home.