OP I’ve felt this way since I was a little kid lmao.

I’m beginning my 13th year nomading abroad, I don’t feel any different. No place feels entirely like home, and I’m still as unsettled as I ever was.

You’ll cross through places that feel like home sometimes… and then you’ll look back and realize it was actually more about the people who were there with you in that place and time, and the location was just a backdrop. The places don’t really matter all that much, once that shine of newness wears off.

Rented a base 1 year ago for the first time ever, because I was tired of dragging all my gear around. I just picked the place where I’ve nomaded through a ton, where I’ve been dating someone, and which happens to be in the middle of everywhere I usually travel. So it was convenient.

It feels nice to have a space of my own that won’t get booked out from under me like an Airbnb. I’ve had zero stress about accommodation this entire year. But I still have one foot half out the door, like always. I just don’t feel settled.

If I owned my own place I would love to put art on the walls and buy a few meaningful “forever” things, but I just can’t bring myself to do that somewhere I will eventually leave behind. So it’s a sort of limbo, like always.

I’ve accepted that this is probably how I will feel forever - neurons have legit rewired to expect a steady stream of unending novelty. So it will be.

Sometimes I worry that I’ve become bored with the entire planet. Elon better hurry the fuck up lol.

Definitely “top 1% first world” problems. Can’t really complain about chasing my dreams and tasting so many different lives in one lifetime. Everything is a tradeoff and I’ll take this any day over the white picket fence bullshit and a life of wondering “what if…”