In 23 years, I’ve had to leave 4 times the places I called Home. I was born in 1995, in Ivory Coast.I was only 4 years old when a civil war made us leave for Lebanon, Beirut - Home. Ten years later, we dramatically moved to Sydney, Australia, and had to stay indefinitely. It was a wrench. I was a stranger to everything around me, even to myself. I felt as if I had never been given the ability to chose for my own life. Four years later, I moved back to Beirut in the exact same way; no control on the matter. I was born again. I was suddenly back in the city I felt homesick for in the past 4 years. It was, pretty ironically, a very unstable place. On the 4th of august 2020, Beirut's blast took away everything. My emotions, my attachements, my roots, and my hopes. 6 months laters, I buried it all behind with my own hands, and left. Today, it is still very hard to find a place I can call home without feeling homesick for another. Today, It is still very hard to find happiness somewhere without feeling like it is elsewhere.