Today I watched old reruns of Alf in my second language. The first episode struck my emotional chord. His planet exploded and he has no home to go back to. I feel the exact same way now that I'm parentless. The happy ending is that I've contently found a new place to call my own zillions of miles away, like Alf kinda. It's just strange to think back on what was once a warm life when they were alive and now everything---the house, the city, the culture---to me, feels like a desolate cold desert. I don't want to return nor can I really. I'm taking the expression "moving on" quite literally. I'm scared, but excited.