Home isn't a place of awe to me, it can be seen as sheer misery.

Rundown motels, hotels that stand high enough to touch the tips of the horizon are my places of comfort. A familiar receptionist, the pool cleaner, the lady who does my laundry right down the the gardener. Those faces that I've come to recognize seems like they are made of porcelain, so paper thin, as if it could be lost at any moment, but keeping it for just a single moment, tingles to the very bone. 

I've decided to play that part of a runaway child. This isn't my first attempt of getting lost and then being found. Oh how the years have multiplied. Faces that I see on a not so everyday basis, people that don't know my name or age, somehow keep me comfortable and steady.

The morning train rush to the south border, the slippery footsteps of pariah's that drag in the wee hours of the morning, sometimes even the loud shrieks of heavily drunk temporary neighbors keep me company, more than any family or friend every has. 

When I actually look at myself in the mirror, filled with washed up paint, I can actually see the scars that I have carried over the years. Scars that made me feel imperfect. A tattoo upon my shoulder of a triangle and an eye that was labeled on me since I was old enough to get one. Meetings in dark corners of empty alleyways and conversations that were hushed, protected me from a world that I turned a blind eye to.

Home is a place now forgotten in my memory of other things. Friendship and trust are things that I don't believe in anymore. It wasn't the cause of mere people that I saw everyday that caused such pain, it was the cause of a single man. A single conversation that changed my life forever. 

If you never left, would my life be any different? I guess wondering about the past doesn't matter anymore. 

I've decided to leave. The hotels that I used to stay in, will be nothing but empty memories. I don't know where I am heading after my first stop. Nobody knows about my plan of living a solitary life. Probably only the sad sobs reading this. I do not want to be found this time. I do not want to come back home this time. I want to disappear for good. I don't want to be me.