Moving

I've been in the middle of moving for the past couple years. It's been a real pain in the ass to have half of my shit in some place I actually have to transport myself to. The act of picking all of my belongings up, in order to put them into another bag, has become routine. The idea of a building being a home is completely foreign. A constant "anything" is a comfort that is romanticized. The days of sitting in a car for hours at a time has become my volunteerism. Waking up knowing where you are is a privilege. The drive in my life is usually two or four wheel. I am roaming looking for a place that feels right. The search for something that brings comfort. The journey to the unknown. Why take the trip? There's an old saying that says, "you never know what you have, until it's gone". If there is such a thing as a comfort zone, what draws us to stay inside? What draws us out? Why worry? Are we born with this absence of acceptance? Maybe as children growing, we grow accustomed to our guardians supposed love. Maybe it comes from more of a social aspect of wanting to be around people. Either way, this feeling does exist. This feeling of want of belonging is alive and well with many people. Though it seems to be found in adolescents more than any other age group, would an older age group feel empty without a sense of god? Is the purpose of someones life dictated by this want of belonging? Perhaps this does have more to do with people in general, as opposed to a simple stage of life. Though I may be young, and simply just not understand what adult hood is about, merely thinking of these questions directs me towards thoughts that can not be ignored. Perhaps there is really nothing to this little rant. I wish there were, but I suppose these are simply more mere thoughts from my head being passed onto you.