musings

Home. The very concept is somewhat of a question mark in my head. A place to come back to. A place for rejuvenation. A place to store life’s treasures and clutter. A place to belong?

I have a thing for a minimalistic home. With lots of light. And good curtains/blinds that helps to filter the sunlight for nanna naps.

My own home.

 

In other news, working from home = minimal childcare costs. When I was younger, my parents left me in the care of paid strangers. I suppose that’s part and parcel of a double income family. Plus, I have 5 other siblings, so it’s not like I get lonely or anything. Despite this, I tend to keep to myself. I wonder why I didn’t crave for social contact then. What was it about schoolwork and solitude that I avoid social contact?

The Simple Truth

He loves me.

And that is enough.

Something

That restless feeling.
The itching hands.
The cry of agony.
Of Uncertainty.
Of Doubts.
And possibly regrets.
And WTFWIT moments.
(What the fuck was I thinking?)

Life has given me time.
And I do not know what to do with it.

I have not found it yet.
Something I’m good at.
Something I’d enjoy doing.

So I float.
Without any destination in mind.

And that empty feeling returns.