It’s such a lonely street, dragging around town with not a soul on it. I pity it if only because of what I see now; I see that roads can not partake in the journeys walked upon them. Set upon by wings of gold I live now, I pity my past as well. Even if such a path is merely a pain, it has and will continue to influence everything I do. The road is more than mere concrete, you see. But perhaps now more than ever such things bother me not, the golden soul continues to whisper in our ears, do you hear it?

And then, the tree, such a tree is gone now. Tore from its ground and threw away, such is the fate of most things that grow out of place. Its weeping branches bore my weight more than once in my adventurous days, but it was destined to be removed. To change, that is everyones and everythings destiny. The tree was no different. I suppose me and my family didn't follow such a strict path set before us, and so we left to my real home.

But I digress. I have a home now, a town as beautiful as it is small. Even here me and my family’s views heavily contrast with those around us. Like some fiendish curse, it tore at our family. The rural life almost mocking us, but at the same time provide us comfort and support. And so I… and my family, changed. I find it funny how we fought so hard to escape change only to whole heartedly embrace it later on.

My home has affected me in more ways than I can even come to terms with. From the missing pets to the troubles of a broken family, I can truly say I learned more than I thought possible. The past is the past, we are free to learn from it…to study it, but it must remain the past always.