“Free at last, free at last”
And it feels so good, amazing actually.
No one to tell me what to do, no one to hold me back.
I’ll eat whatever the hell I want,
Come home whenever the hell I please,
Let my laundry stack up to the ceiling,
Make bad decisions, make good decisions, make just plain crazy ass decisions.
Freedom.
As powerful as crack cocaine
But now I start to crash.
The high is gone and I miss the safety, the security of being home.
When I left, I thought about the new experiences I would encounter,
But now I recall the old experiences left behind, shrouded in a hazy fog.
The confusing love, no… complex love.
The nagging parents… no, caring parents.
The unbearable high school… no, the nurturing educators.
The boring old town… no, the relaxing place I grew up in.
Maybe this new environment was not made for me.
“Change is good. Change creates opportunities.”
But what if I just want to be home.
You were right, Dorothy.
No, ruby red slippers do not go with your horrendous blue dress.
But yeah…
“There’s no place like home.”