Home is Where the Heart is

In my fiction class, my teacher was talking about origins and people writing about where they're from. Then she asked everyone in the class where the consider themselves to be from. Some said Texas. Some said specific cities like Dallas or Houston. Others were from other states like California or Kansas. Well...I didn't really feel like I had an answer. I lived in Utah for ten years, and now I live in Texas. I spent eight years in Alvarado for school, and now I'm in Fort Worth for school. But I don't necessarily consider any of those places to be "where I'm from." So where am I from?
I'm from my mom's house, wherever that may be at the time. I've lived in three different places with my mom. The brown duplex I remember even though I was only two. That house with the maple tree on Chatterleigh road.  And now in the homesteads. I'm from my family and where I feel comfortable. Whether that be some random place with friends, the apartment with Bestie, or chillin in Gay Lover #1's room. I'm from wherever I'm talking about when I say "I want to go home."

I'm kind of hating my life right now. Everything keeps going wrong and my stuff keeps turning up missing. This time it's my house keys. What. The. Fuck. Who steals house keys and leaves the truck keys? Especially when they don't where the fuck I live and my truck is in the goddamn parking lot. Then I realize that Crazy Lady had some of my shit before she moved out and now I'll probably never see it again. I feel like there's no point anymore. All I do is wake up and do the same shit I did the day before and it never adds up to anything.
I'm a mouse in a maze looking for the cheese, but the scientists forgot to put it at the finish line.

And I don't know what I keep doing wrong. I feel like such a fuck up and I can't ever do anything right. Not even with Stockboy. Like right now...I have no idea what I did wrong...but I feel like everything is messed up. And I just want to know what's going through his head, but if I ask, he says nothing and he says he's fine..But I don't know. Because he's being...different. I don't know how to explain it, but I feel like everything is just off and the only answer is for me to jump off a bridge.
*

:Poetic Moment:
What a world we live in
Where everything gets handed to those
Who don't deserve it

:Quote:
Click your heels together three times
And go fuck yourself

:Picture: