When someone is young the world seems so new, and mysterious. It had only been four years and already things begin throwing themselves at you whether to be informed of letters as cheerful as getting into Hogwarts or as shattering as having the knowledge that you would have to wait another hour for mom to finally finish dinner. All things so new and so real, and then reality kicks in and you have to move 1000 worlds away from all of the 3 people you have worked up the courage to make friends with and that one hole that you love digging so much. Then you finally get there, your “new” home, already getting over your friends, only being 6 and all, and you do what all humans do, change.

After your spooky clown of a Dad’s choice. Your new home doesn’t seem so inviting at, so you, being the boss, filled it with all of your best toys, from Optimus Prime to Woody, that room of yours slowly feels more and more like home every day. It is fun. It is simple. It is yours.

Later on in life, you being 11, think you know just everything and that no one is smarter than you. Every day you get up have a fun day at school, and you go home. Drawing has become a habit you just can’t break, but breaking you was your father’s habit. He is moving and once again you have to abandon all of your friends and once again have to everything a human does, adapt. So in your new home, you go to another unnervingly boring room and fill it with posters of your favorite bands and people. Every day that room feels more and more like home and being 12 sounds like it’s gonna be fun.  

Then at age 13 just a year and a half later that tyrant father of yours says “We are going to move another 1000 miles” and you have no say. So you go along and you perform what he commands of you. After all of those ghost in your old closet, think “maybe this new house won’t be that awful”. As you arrive this room your dad chose for you seems, minuscule, taking the larger room for himself. So you go in your “habitat” and fix that stern look on that room by filling it with all of your favorite objects like your prodigious PC, and your stunning stands. You work harder in school because there was no way that you were smart, that flinty father of yours beat that out of you like it was the only reason he had you. After all that moving, you begin to think maybe we won’t move anymore. Because you’ve done what every human has already done, adapted.

All those years and might just stay, but you know now that cannot happen. Because without new experiences, what is there to do? Life cannot happen without some sort of moving involved in it , need energy in it, because just like change cannot be taken from life, change is life, and life is strange because life is change.