The Nomad.

  You travel. You adapt. You survive. Everywhere is home, cause home is wherever you lay your head at night. You've abandoned all the luxuries you've once took for granted. Video games. Good friends. Family. Your home. They're all thousands of miles away from your reach. Cause luxuries can't afford to exist when you're living like this. You thought it would be glorious, to move away, to break out of the norm. But gosh, you never thought about the lonliness that would ensue, never thought about the isolation, never thought how'd it'd be like to be disposable. A nomad.

  This isn't a dry and unforgiving sand dune though. This isn't a journey with a camel across thousands of miles of desert to sell and trade your goods. No. It's a city. It's a town. It's a village. There's thousands of people around, and yet you feel so alone. Because you're different, you're an outsider. They know you're not here to stay, they know you'll move on. So, they alienate you, they shun you and they exclude you. Cause they know there's not much you can give them, nothing to gain from a friend with a expiry date. 

  But you try anyway. You adapt. You blend. You change. You change into their ways and mold into their shapes. You start walking their walk, talking their talk and mocking what they mock too. Anything it takes. Anything it takes for them to see that you're human too, just like them. Sooner or later, you progress. You find yourself thinking the way they do even when they're not around anymore. But deep down, the timer is still clicking away, whether you remember or not.

  You're happy. Happy because you've finally been accepted. They mutually respect you now, seeing you as one of their own. Seeing you as an outsider who gave his all to be one of them. Part of the flock. They celebrate, they praise you. Praise you for your adaptability and how you're able to do it so fast. That's when you start to forget. Start to forget where you're from. You're lost in a soceity that finally accepts you after all that effort you've put in. After all those lonely nights waiting.

  You've finished packing. Tying up your shoelaces with your luggage by the doorstep, you don't say a word to the others. You leave. Not because you want to, but because the winds of change dictate so. Forces bigger than you. Forces out of your control. Forces that say it's time for your ass to get a move on. And so you leave, to your next home. Your home away from home away from home. This is how it is. You're disposable. You're adaptable. You're a nomad.