(no subject)
I'm tired, so I probably shouldn't be writing this. In fact, I'm not going to write it. I'm simply going to refer you all to the story of the Three Little Pigs. Even though the first two pigs got their homes destroyed, and they had to move in with Pig the Third, those broken piles of rubble are still their homes. No matter how much it hurt when they were destroyed, or wherever they decide to move to next, even if they try to make a new house as similar as possible to the old one, it's still nothing compared to their home.
Do I want to go home? Am I home? I'll just huff and puff in the meantime.
Do I want to go home? Am I home? I'll just huff and puff in the meantime.