Home, sweet home! There is no place like home. As much as I dislike clichés and bumper-sticker sentences, I have got to say it again: Home, sweet home!!
Now that I think of it, I wonder who said it first. Maybe Cain when the mark was put on him…I can imagine him screaming “Oh God! Not the face”…and then he had to wander the face of the earth wondering when he could get back home or maybe it was Adam ‘n’ Eve when thy got kicked out of their plush garden where Adam had danced nude with the monkeys and Eve rode wild stallions bare-back.
The four walls of a home mean a lot. They represent in many ways: joy, happiness, security, hope, relaxation…etc, etc… I could go on and on, or maybe I can’t…and the size doesn’t really matter or it does…the reason we got MTV cribs, one might say.
Well, I want to talk…abi…write about my home. My own small, four wall. I like the space it has. It might be small to some people but it just fits me well. Whenever I am at home, there is this kind of peace that overwhelms me, some sort of relief from the strains that builds up in me. Sometimes, I find myself running home and those times sure does happen a lot. I should also add that those times are a lot amusing when I think about them later. At that moment, it always feels as if I would burst from within if I can’t get home, but somehow, somehow, I have luckily never been unlucky.
At home, I have a white seat. Mehn! I love that seat so much; sometimes I think it’s magical. I secretly call it my seat of power. There was this time, sometime back then, when I was really upset and it was at night too, I felt this distress settle over me and I was very sick in my tummy, just when it was getting really bad, I rushed and sat on my white seat. Mehn! Did I feel so relieved??…It just did its magic and in a few minutes, I was feeling so light…unburdened… I think I floated back to my bed. It was glorious, I tell you. Sometimes, just sitting there, I think of life and see how hard or messed up it is and then I wonder if I can make a big dump out of it.
There are times when I would at home, seating on my favorite seat and I would just let my mind wander. It nearly happens all the time. Days like that, I would just sit tight and paint the noises I hear…off-course, I do it in my mind, but the effect is always cool…I have painted the sound of uncoiling a roll of paper, of water flowing downhill a pipe, of the tap-tap-tap of water dropping slowly. It’s just beautiful.
Other times, I just sit and stare at the ceiling and try to count the number of boards. I always do that when I am very upset and it is hard to get it out. Doing this sometimes cools my muscles and help makes things flow much more easily.
There are so many things I have done in the confinement of my lovely home. I can remember reading all of Stephanie Meyer’s twilight series and seeing the film adaptations of the books…off-course…while seating on my favorite white seat. Other times, I would just send messages, or chat or make calls and I would be making all these weird noise and the person on the other end would laugh at how hilarious I was and all that, then sometimes I just seat there after relieving my self of the days stress and plan on what I would be eating or wearing to go out…heck! I even got the idea of doing this piece, while I was at home chilling.
It’s never a dull moment… damn these clichés and their importance…at home, but then the truth is: It’s never always smooth. Some days could be very terrible with lots of trying periods; like when I am tired but need to clean up my home or when I am very upset and it’s hard for me to push out what I feel inside. In times like that, I find myself sweating profusely, with my teeth grinding into each other and my face; a mask of pain, but still my worst moments are when I rush home and I open the door, behold my seat, smile and then when I look close, I would scream “who forgot to flush??”