The Journal #22: Homecoming
This was written over countless cups of coffee spent as I tried to make sense of how I felt after coming back to the city I once called home, and learnt to call it just that again. The final words were put to paper after brewing a medium roast with my french press.
The idea of homecoming is, at least in my head, limited to those who come home from a war, a voyage or something in proportion. So, when I came back to the city where I learnt my ropes as a human being, I didn’t much see it as a homecoming. I did see it as the idea of someone coming home after a long time, in every sense of the word. It didn’t feel earned though. I thought I was the same person who had left two years ago in an almost knee-jerk reaction of leaving the city for good.
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