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as I had just checked out of the grand hotel in amstelveen (not so grand after all) and hopped in the taxi (which are all mercedes benz by the way) we hadn't been on the road more than 2 minutes and the friend's theme song by the Rembrandt's came on the radio. suddenly, I missed home. didn't really miss my current home in chicago, or my homes before that, but I just missed my family home. the home I grew up in. the home I played ninja turtles with action figures in. the home where holiday's came and went as well as the seasons and the memories. I missed the naiveté, the simplicity and wholeness I felt so many years ago. most would say that as you get older you gradually become more and more whole but I would argue you actually become more and more... less? it's true, you gain more knowledge over time but a vast majority of this knowledge eats at you in one way or another that over time just seems to lessen one's ability to even feel whole. hearts get broken, friends move on/away, people die, and time takes it's dreary toll on all our lives. at times we just want to throw our hands up and scream "enough already!" but, we can't. to do so admits defeat, that we can't handle it. whatever it is.