Home. I wonder what is it? A six walled room with a common door? Or a six walled room with just a window? Or an open sky? I don't know, so I googled it lol. "The place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.", this is what it says. Umm... it's quite a good one but I don't agree. It lacks emotions.
If I try to define home: To me home is a place, a place secure from the outside world. A place where I can hide my fears. A place where I can roam naked without any red eyes staring at me. It is my asylum, it is my daycare. It is my place to take rest. It is my another world.
I find home a very big word. It encompasses a wide range of feelings and places, like it should be. Everyone has a different home and one can have many. I find my home in a warm hug, in my mother's lap, in the well wishes, in the prayers, in hope and myself.I find home where love is, without love it's just a prison.
I am a lazy person, so I try to find homes for rest. And in my quest to-lol-idk-where, I've found architects, amazing architects. I've seen them build home from a house. I've seen some build home on paper just from mere words or strokes of paint. I've seen them help others to build their home and ended up living together. I've seen them breaking but they rise up again, stronger. And because I am lazy, I've lived in each of them. They're all beautiful.
#musings#gratitude#longform#musinghues
