My name is Mooncalf, I'm a thirty-year-old fangirl from Ohio, and this is my weblog. Right now you're either somewhere in the archives or reading comments or something like that. To return to the main page, click here.

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10/01/2001 Entry: "The Concept of Home, or Sentimental Mush."

WARNING: Random sentimental babbling.

It's kind of weird. There are a whole lot of songs out there that have been written specifically to make people feel things, obviously. Sad songs, love songs, all those songs, they want to make you experience an emotion. Well, okay, they really want you to buy a copy of the album and make the singer rich. But most of them want to tug on your heartstrings, too.
When I was a teenager, I felt a lot of sappy love songs really, really deeply. That's par for the course during adolescence, I know. Most of those songs kind of embarrass me today, although I still like a lot of them for the sheer nostalgia value.

But, you know, now I'm 29, which is something approximating a 'real' age. I'm not immune to skilfully-crafted love songs, but they don't sway my emotions very much any more. (Love is a crock, but it's such a nice crock.)
There's one song, though. One particular song, not a love song. Actually, one particular line of that song that still affects me immensely, changes my emotional state every time. It makes me happy. From 'Solsbury Hill', by Peter Gabriel:

Grab your things, I've come to take you home...


When I sing that lyric to myself, I feel: Like I was stuck in the hospital for over a year, looking at the same four white walls day in and day out, alienated, lost in the anonymous and non-comforting surroundings, never belonging, without privacy, in great pain... and then one day, my best friend bursts in waving a sheaf of paperwork, and sings:

Grab your things, I've come to take you home...

Can you imagine the relief? The joy?

But I've never been in the hospital, not like that. I've lived in many places that definitely were not home, though, and finally leaving those places was like a breath of fresh air across the cramped acre of my soul.

To me, home is as real and as affecting a concept as 'love' is for your average teenaged girl. I guess I have a fairly unreal concept of 'home', really, as some place I've never been but some place I'd feel utterly... well, at home.
And just like that starry-eyed teenaged girl, it's as if I'm looking outwards, for someone to come 'take me home' instead of finding 'home' myself. How could anyone take me home? It's really something I'd have to find on my own, right? Just like love... love isn't given to you like a present. It's something that you create, or stumble over. And I suppose that's equally true of home.
Home, though, the kind of home I'm looking for... I don't know if such a thing exists. I doubt it. It's like looking for the perfect man, or the perfect woman... there really isn't any 'home'. Just as there isn't any 'perfect love'. There's just... 'good enough for now.' 'Not bad.' 'As much as I can afford.' 'Convenient.' 'Comfortable.'

Grab your things, I've come to take you home...

So I'm not that teenaged girl, not any more. I'm not looking for love, not really... I have love already, and it's nice. I want to go home. Home is love, I guess. A calm kind of love that surrounds you every day, and doesn't change with time or familiarity, and isn't totally dependent on another person, who's just as fucked up as you are... maybe, just maybe, all those years I was looking for someone to love, I really wanted someone to take me home. Maybe I was just too young to know what I really wanted.

The words 'I love you' come pretty easily to me. And I do love you. I spread love around easily because I have a lot of it, and it doesn't mean anything, it's just... love, for you, because you make my life better, more fun, more interesting. But the words have lost that heart-pounding sense of romance... sure, I love you. I love my mother, too, and my boyfriend, and all my friends, both online and off.
But if I ever tell you 'you're my home'...

I want that comfort, that sense of belonging, that sense of... this place is mine, and I am this place's. Some people feel that way about their country. Some people feel that way about their city, or their neighborhood, or their house, or just their room... but 'true home', like 'true love', might just be childish hopes and dreams.
Ah, well. Maybe, if I'm lucky, that's where I'll go after I die... home.

Grab your things, I've come to take you home...

Replies: add your comment: currently 9 comments

I know just what you mean (though I'm just 17)...

Posted by lyn @ 10/01/2001 09:33 PM EST


Posted by Nezumi @ 10/01/2001 09:55 PM EST

That song has ALWAYS done something for me. I've never known what it is, but it drives me to tears occasionally. It's driving me to tears now.

Posted by Evil_Quistis @ 10/01/2001 10:43 PM EST

When I was younger, the same thought would always run through my head when I was depressed...

"I want to go home."

...Despite the fact that I usually was 'home' while thinking it.

This entry made me think hard about that and what it meant to me, and I thank you for it.

Posted by Miyu @ 10/01/2001 11:03 PM EST

...I'm moved. *contemplates*

Posted by Nathan @ 10/02/2001 05:42 AM EST

You know, the entire first week I was at school I spent howling about how I wanted to go home. I wanted to go home, I wanted Amy to come take me there, and it was all Phil's goddamn fault for making me want to go to this school anyway.

Never mind that Amy is nowhere near home and it was MY decision to come here, it was just Phil's idea.

And somehow, thanks to that little bit of sentimentality, I'm doing it again. *carts the angst off to a corner* Damn you, Moon! Damn you for triggering my angst! (But I'll love you again in five minutes and/or as soon as I get breakfast, so don't sweat it.)

Posted by Ed @ 10/02/2001 07:56 AM EST

I...think I sort of know what you mean, Moon, and although I consider this a concept that is VERY difficult to explain, I think you did a very good job. I could not have done better myself.
I think....I too am sort of looking for where my 'home' is. Although I have a good home, and probably the most place I feel comfortable, I think I am also looking for someone to 'take me home' as well. I think....many of us are, even though we don't know it.
I think love and 'home' are probably rather similar, yes, and some of us....are looking for both. I think....we can sometimes find 'home' inside another person, or even people. It's not assimple as that for everyone, I realize. Hell, it's not THAT simple, period!! But you get the idea. True, we don't know when or where we will find it, but when we do...we will know. I am still looking for, and maybe...just maybe, I will also find my way 'home' when I find this...
Until then, never stop looking for home, Moon, and I hope very soon you find what you are looking for.
Peace and Love always.

Posted by Wolf @ 10/02/2001 03:09 PM EST

I'm usually fairly shy about commenting, but I have to say that this is one of the most inspiring blog entries I've ever read. I think almost everyone has those thoughts about home and love, but in a scattered subconscious way-- so to see it laid out and put in writing, well, it makes a person stop and think. Thank you for those thoughts.

Posted by Kitsu @ 10/03/2001 09:41 AM EST

Hi Mooncalf!

I've been reading your blog for a long time but this is my first comment here. Solsbury Hill has always had that kind of effect on me too. That one line is really comforting.

Posted by Goose @ 10/03/2001 05:26 PM EST

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