…at the end of the day, I think Home is something you make, not something you find. Something you’re always leaving, and somewhere you’re always looking for or returning to. It’s part of growing up, and not the best part. – Neil Gaiman
Full estates with gardens, 4-storey apartments, dingy one bedroom/kitchen/toilet apartments, dormitories… I’ve stayed in them all and I’ve realised that home is truly where you make it happen.
Home today is my books, my music, my secret corner (which right now is in the kitchen, at the counter-top when the whole family has gone to bed) and my love… thankfully I can carry these things everywhere I go. Almost.
Recently, I found my home extending as far as my heart grows. It now covers several countries and as the borders of my home snake around the world, I find myself needing less and less to feel, well, at home. Maybe I’m just not as sentimental as before.
Good food for thought as I plan on my next place of comfort.
And as each day passes, we colour in the walls with memories. But like children, once you’re done colouring within the lines, you turn the page and start a new picture. I’m done with the picture I have now. I’m ready for something new. Something awesome.
Aside, here’s a little track by the Manic Street Preachers doing a cover of Rihanna’s Umbrella. I hated the original. Loved the cover. Especially after watching them sing it live in the contradicting sweltering heat.
Totally random, I know.