On returning home again:
So you can never go home again. The central philosophy I’ve been grappling with the entire time here. Can you ever go home again? What is home. Home is where the heart is. Wherever you have family. Wherever you’re happy. Where you sleep. A place you know. But ten days after sort of leaving Firenze, I left for good. For I don’t know when I’ll ever be back. There is no set date. Or time or year. That part is behind me. There’s no obvious next time. Even yesterday. It was only sort of going home.