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Home-less

I once had a home, the place I grew up in, an apartment I always came back to. I went out for walks with friends, we went to restaurants or just for long walks around the city, or I would go to Moscow, or Saint Petersburg or Ukraine or even Germany but in the end I always came back to that particular place and then something happened. We sold it, my parents and I and bought a better, bigger apartment, and then after just a couple of months I moved away from that new apartment and now I find that when I come and visit with my parents at this new place I just don’t feel there at home. It’s strange, it’s new, it’s ok but it’s not home. The old place was sold and some other people live there now. But that’s not the point, the point is that I now suddenly found myself to be homeless, not in the sense that I have nowhere to live, I do have places to live and a roof over my head but in the sense that I not longer have a place I can really call home.

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