Finding Home

I think it's a bit rude to start my blog so suddenly without properly introducing myself. Jean-Baptiste Clamence at your service. Allow me to delve a bit into the history of my life. I was born across the sea. On a boat filled with wet serpents and the sea never turned pacific. MY FOOT IS NOW IN A TISSUE BOX AND I JUST STOLE LUCIFER'S BOOK OF SOULS. Ahem... excuse me. As I was saying, At the age of 5.75 we crash landed upon the shores of Wonder. OH FUCK. HOW DID I END UP IN THIS SHITTY COUNTRY. "Why yes this is nice" I said at 6 years old. Wonder is a magical land of illusion and obesity. I ended up in the swamplands of Penn's Woods. There I did frolic as a child amongst the wood elves and swans. And then the paternal figure did lose his job and we had to move to SHITTY McSHITTERTON. Everything smelled of asphalt and dead infants. The fjords even decided to go astray in favor of heaps of waterlogged garbage. But in this strife, a miracle occurred. The people were less disillusioned! There were less trusting and more authentic! Hooray for funerals! Black Umbrella Industries! But what came as a result of this constant shifting of locations throught my infancy, childhood, and adolescence? MADNESS! Where is home? Who do I love? What do I want? I find love in the oddest places! NOOO! HELP! Yes. I will never love. I will MAKE LOVE undoubtedly. But what deos that satiate? Temporary satisfaction? I'm on a mission. I call it OPERATION ITIIL: FINDING HOME. Commencing... ... ... ...