Want to Go Home?? Reblog w/Response!



So, okay, I’m confused. Everyone’s saying how they miss home and many are saying that life now sucks, that they never wanted to be human, and that they will go home again some day. Like. Um… This is OBVIOUSLY mainly a “me” thing but I CHOSE to incarnate. I chose to be human the same way as before: I originally chose to be bird, then sheep, and, recently, human. It’s a long story that some of you might not be able to grasp unless I go into a lot of detail, so I’m not going to explain it too much on this post.

I am a celestial. I had nothing but to gain from incarnating, and so far it has brought me justice. I understand some of you getting homesick, and I definitely didn’t live a very stationary life, so I probably can’t relate as much as some of you, but some of you are really torn up about all this.

So… If you guys are all distraught and saying that you’ll be home again some day, what are your stories? Why did you become human??? I’m not saying this out of anger, but curiosity. You blatantly have different stories than me, and it’s interesting to know how each of us got to where we are, today.

It was certainly a choice for me to incarnate here as well, but the decision came from a number of factors, and I’m not sure if I’ll ever really know the depth of all of them.

For one, I know I was attacked and “killed” directly before incarnating here. It was a betrayal, and although it was one I let in through my front door, was still painful. From what I understand, my body went into stasis, and this life is now my “dream” as I sleep in death.

However, it certainly means my coming here was sudden, and not on the greatest terms.

I knew, too, I needed to rest, and I wanted to give myself the chance to be young again. Picking a vibrant but ultimately short-lived creature sounds nice for that, doesn’t it? A new world, without much magic, to explore and see the beauty in the simple.

But I think I carry a lot of guilt and injury, from before. I’m not sure if I can ever put down what I feel are “my responsibilities,” so I carried a lot of extra weight into this world. (Because I’m stubborn, and foolish.)

This life was meant as a vacation, a brief aside. To a thing that lives eons, eighty years didn’t sound like very long. But living in this skin, with a human perspective, it seems very long indeed. It’s hard not to want to go home, to feel like myself, to see my friends and feel at home at last.

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