My parents are cool people. I really can't complain about being at 'home', my childhood home, for the holidays. But the problem is, it isnt my home anymore. Every time i come home i expect it to be like when i left. It isn't. Every time I'm back in LA the sky is a little browner, the hills are a little more infested with clone houses. The neighborhood my parents live in is a little island surrounded by urban decay. It won't hold out forever. The oak tree i planted before i left is growing well - last year it started making acorns, and it's at least 12 feet tall now. It's beautiful but I know if my parents move out the next person to live here will probably mistreat it. My few friends here are either gone, or so different that I don't understand them anymore. Or more likely, I'm too different. They can't accept me like this.

It wasnt so bad until my girlfriend left to go back to work. Now i'm just alone. I find myself drinking my parents alcohol, moding, and listening to Less than Jake. I never drank in high school, but i sure make up for it now. I'm not used to being lonely.. but when i lived here i was. It reminds me a little too much of when i lived here - when i WAS alone. Now I have a life i can't complain about.. but it's 400 miles away. Tomorrow i will go back to my college apartment. Tomorrow I will go home. This isn't my home anymore. Visiting my parents is always good but this place doesnt mean anything anymore.