Actor Justin Willits HD Instagram Photos and Wallpapers July 2024

My whole life I’ve felt this deep sense of not belonging anywhere. My family came from all over the country, and from other countries and most of them put down only 1-2 generations of roots in any given place. I’ve always been jealous of people who have a sense of deep connection and roots with a place, or a community. Add to that I never fit in anywhere, I’ve never met another person exactly like me, I always annoyed everyone (still do- people constantly to this day hate my voice, face, think I have a weird “persona”), never had close friends in school. There are places that mean a lot to me but I’ve never felt like I’ve meant much to any place. But out on the road, even though that sense of moving through a landscape I don’t belong to is only intensified, I feel the most at home. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I feel the most like myself when I’m wandering, floating, drifting. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, but I feel like so far, this is the closest I’ve felt to belonging to anywhere. The little strips of tarmac that stretch over the horizon. Anywhere, nowhere. Everywhere. I leave a little piece of myself everywhere and I take a little piece of everywhere and everyone with me. My home is with my loved ones, I grew up next to a fantasy park that belongs to no one and even my neighborhood was ephemeral, more fantasy than tangible reality. It’s a strange life but it’s mine. Maybe one day I’ll find some *place* that feels like home, but until then I’ll always feel like a visitor, a wanderer, and everywhere will feel like Randomland. I don’t know if any of that makes sense. It’s just a feeling, it’s always there. Hard to capture in words.

My whole life I’ve felt this deep sense of not belonging anywhere. My family came from all over the country, and from other countries and most of them put down only 1-2 generations of roots in any given place. I’ve always been jealous of people who have a sense of deep connection and roots with a place, or a community. Add to that I never fit in anywhere, I’ve never met another person exactly like me, I always annoyed everyone (still do- people constantly to this day hate my voice, face, think I have a weird “persona”), never had close friends in school. There are places that mean a lot to me but I’ve never felt like I’ve meant much to any place. But out on the road, even though that sense of moving through a landscape I don’t belong to is only intensified, I feel the most at home. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I feel the most like myself when I’m wandering, floating, drifting. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, but I feel like so far, this is the closest I’ve felt to belonging to anywhere. The little strips of tarmac that stretch over the horizon. Anywhere, nowhere. Everywhere. I leave a little piece of myself everywhere and I take a little piece of everywhere and everyone with me. My home is with my loved ones, I grew up next to a fantasy park that belongs to no one and even my neighborhood was ephemeral, more fantasy than tangible reality. It’s a strange life but it’s mine. Maybe one day I’ll find some *place* that feels like home, but until then I’ll always feel like a visitor, a wanderer, and everywhere will feel like Randomland. I don’t know if any of that makes sense. It’s just a feeling, it’s always there. Hard to capture in words.

My whole life I’ve felt this deep sense of not belonging anywhere. My family came from all over the country, and from other countries and most of them put down only 1-2 generations of roots in any given place. I’ve always been jealous of people who have a sense of deep connection and roots with a place, or a community. Add to that I never fit in anywhere, I’ve never met another person exactly like me, I always annoyed everyone (still do- people constantly to this day hate my voice, face, think I have a weird “persona”), never had close friends in school. There are places that mean a lot to me but I’ve never felt like I’ve meant much to any place. But out on the road, even though that sense of moving through a landscape I don’t belong to is only intensified, I feel the most at home. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I feel the most like myself when I’m wandering, floating, drifting. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, but I feel like so far, this is the closest I’ve felt to belonging to anywhere. The little strips of tarmac that stretch over the horizon. Anywhere, nowhere. Everywhere. I leave a little piece of myself everywhere and I take a little piece of everywhere and everyone with me. My home is with my loved ones, I grew up next to a fantasy park that belongs to no one and even my neighborhood was ephemeral, more fantasy than tangible reality. It’s a strange life but it’s mine. Maybe one day I’ll find some *place* that feels like home, but until then I’ll always feel like a visitor, a wanderer, and everywhere will feel like Randomland. I don’t know if any of that makes sense. It’s just a feeling, it’s always there. Hard to capture in words.

My whole life I’ve felt this deep sense of not belonging anywhere. My family came from all over the country, and from other countries and most of them put down only 1-2 generations of roots in any given place. I’ve always been jealous of people who have a sense of deep connection and roots with a place, or a community. Add to that I never fit in anywhere, I’ve never met another person exactly like me, I always annoyed everyone (still do- people constantly to this day hate my voice, face, think I have a weird “persona”), never had close friends in school. There are places that mean a lot to me but I’ve never felt like I’ve meant much to any place. But out on the road, even though that sense of moving through a landscape I don’t belong to is only intensified, I feel the most at home. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I feel the most like myself when I’m wandering, floating, drifting. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, but I feel like so far, this is the closest I’ve felt to belonging to anywhere. The little strips of tarmac that stretch over the horizon. Anywhere, nowhere. Everywhere. I leave a little piece of myself everywhere and I take a little piece of everywhere and everyone with me. My home is with my loved ones, I grew up next to a fantasy park that belongs to no one and even my neighborhood was ephemeral, more fantasy than tangible reality. It’s a strange life but it’s mine. Maybe one day I’ll find some *place* that feels like home, but until then I’ll always feel like a visitor, a wanderer, and everywhere will feel like Randomland. I don’t know if any of that makes sense. It’s just a feeling, it’s always there. Hard to capture in words.

My whole life I’ve felt this deep sense of not belonging anywhere. My family came from all over the country, and from other countries and most of them put down only 1-2 generations of roots in any given place. I’ve always been jealous of people who have a sense of deep connection and roots with a place, or a community. Add to that I never fit in anywhere, I’ve never met another person exactly like me, I always annoyed everyone (still do- people constantly to this day hate my voice, face, think I have a weird “persona”), never had close friends in school. There are places that mean a lot to me but I’ve never felt like I’ve meant much to any place. But out on the road, even though that sense of moving through a landscape I don’t belong to is only intensified, I feel the most at home. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I feel the most like myself when I’m wandering, floating, drifting. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, but I feel like so far, this is the closest I’ve felt to belonging to anywhere. The little strips of tarmac that stretch over the horizon. Anywhere, nowhere. Everywhere. I leave a little piece of myself everywhere and I take a little piece of everywhere and everyone with me. My home is with my loved ones, I grew up next to a fantasy park that belongs to no one and even my neighborhood was ephemeral, more fantasy than tangible reality. It’s a strange life but it’s mine. Maybe one day I’ll find some *place* that feels like home, but until then I’ll always feel like a visitor, a wanderer, and everywhere will feel like Randomland. I don’t know if any of that makes sense. It’s just a feeling, it’s always there. Hard to capture in words.

Of course I had to take the boy to stand on the corner! Growing up, I wasn’t an Eagles fan, but I certainly knew the entire song. It’s weird the kids growing up now Don’t all know the same things as their parents the way we did. Too many TV shows and channels and streaming services and social media outlets….. the common cultures a little shattered !

Of course I had to take the boy to stand on the corner! Growing up, I wasn’t an Eagles fan, but I certainly knew the entire song. It’s weird the kids growing up now Don’t all know the same things as their parents the way we did. Too many TV shows and channels and streaming services and social media outlets….. the common cultures a little shattered !

Of course I had to take the boy to stand on the corner! Growing up, I wasn’t an Eagles fan, but I certainly knew the entire song. It’s weird the kids growing up now Don’t all know the same things as their parents the way we did. Too many TV shows and channels and streaming services and social media outlets….. the common cultures a little shattered !