I once used to live and breathe this place. Every story that was posted, I gobbled up like the last supper. Every stumble upon a stolen moment in time, I’d sit at the screen and type away, wanting to share the inner-workings of my heart with the strangers who would tread here. I refreshed the screen repeatedly, hoping for updates. What did this place mean to me? An outlet, an escape, a “hobby”? No, and yes, to all of the above. Years have passed since I last wrote for you nameless faces, or better yet, you faceless names. I’m back today and intent on visiting more often. I’m older, maybe not that much wiser. Stolen moments of free time are far and few in-between. Ideas more vague inside my tired head. What does it feel like? Iranian.com. What do you feel like to me? I’ll tell you, it’s like home. That place you find where you can snuggle beneath the covers and ramble on and on about whatever’s stuck in your brain at any given moment. You can throw yourself out there and rant and rave. Everyone will judge you, sure, but you’re here….on home turf of sorts. Even if they choose to judge you, they can’t stop you from being you. They can’t stop the strokes of your fingertips against the keyboard. They can’t stop you from pressing “submit.” All they can do is leave snide comments and show their true stripes. So, soon, I’ll start posting again, and I’ll say whatever I want to say directed to whomever I want to say it to. I’ll be true to myself. It will be a homecoming.
