Homeless

Last time we went to Aix, in late October, just like any time I had gone back after my move to the UK, it felt like going home and being there was both great and really difficult, cause, of course, I didn’t have a home there anymore.
This time the homey feeling was gone and it was just this place that used to be home and where people-who-know-me are. At least some of them, cause James is gone and Jannick is as good as gone in a way, besides, lets not kid ourselves, it is not the same as it was when I was actually there.
So Birmingham, but how much of a home is it really? I do have some friends, but none of them can be qualified as people-who-know-me just yet. I live in a house share, which is fun, but is by definition as un-homey as it gets, by definition temporary, no potential to settle down what so ever. And my local pub is in… Milton Keynes.
So Milton Keynes then? Well, I don’t even live there. The plan is for me to move there, but as long as I haven’t found a job, it isn’t so much a plan as a wish.
And so the sad truth is that I’m living on the boxes with no end to it in sight for now and, quite frankly, I’m growing more and more tired of it.