He stood there, gazing at the sky, his thoughts caught in a silent seance of dreams forever perished. It had been a long journey, a difficult journey, and he still had far to go to reach his home. "But why need I go on anyway?" he thought. "After all, you cannot lose yourself by walking away, and you cannot find yourself anywhere but where you are. And besides, maybe home is no particular place at all. Maybe home is anywhere where you have a sense of peace, where you're not forever and fully on guard. Or maybe everywhere is home; maybe it all depends on one's particular point of view at one particular point in time." He smiled, amused at his own pretentiousness. "Or maybe home is merely the place where dead dreams cease their haunting and one can hear new dreams, whispering and alive, just beyond the horizon. Still, the wind is rising and I guess I should seek some shelter." And with that, he smiled once more and continued on his journey.
