Showing posts from May, 2014


Homes cannot be measured by square feet, by rooms, by how many bathrooms or studies there are. Homes are nothing if no one lives in them and create memories in them. Homes can be a one bedroom apartment with three people living in it. It's only a place where we can have a roof over our head. It gives us the essential needs as a human, a place to rest, to recuperate before we step into society again. Homes aren't built to be happy. They are just made of bricks, wood, paint, stone and will age with time, but the memories the people who lived in it made won't ever fade.

When people say that they are happy when they go home, it's not because of how the home looks, not because of it's kitchen, that expensive, chandelier or television set. But it's because of the people that created it, created a life inside the home. We have to make the home an enjoyable place for us to return to at the end of a tiring day. A place where we can forget the pain, the frustration, the…

Always waiting

People wait and wait, a stream of endless waiting, endless longing, endless paths of waiting. It's funny isn't it how when it's Monday people wait for Friday. They keep telling themselves repetitively to hang in there, to keep fighting, keep struggling to keep afloat in the water until Friday comes. Friday comes at last but the freedom and happiness only lasts for two days and then the cycle begins all over again. So what is the point of waiting for a certain day, a certain season, a certain emotion in life. 
People I feel are simplistic like that. They are easily satisfied with even if it's only a few days of happiness. They want to always grab onto the now, the present and make as many happy memories as possible before it passes by and then the cycle of waiting begins again. 
We are always waiting, waiting for the impossible in love, waiting for the impossible to happen, waiting for days off, for summer to arrive. Life is a journey of endless waiting itself, won'…

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