I have neglected my blog, I know. The reason being I have been at the beach on a holiday and gone into some kind of television induced state of nothingness. It actually has been great, although when I purchased Leonard Cohen's 'Book of Longing' yesterday I snapped right out and am now back to my usual self. Of course it feels average but it feels right. Now, here we are.
Home sweet home, as they say, is where I am again, in my musty room looking at my now flowering cactus and my still living bunch of singapore orchids. It feels real good to be home. I have lived in the same home all of my life, you know, which I suppose is a little unusual. If I am going to another place that I will be staying in for an extended period of time, I tend to do little stupid things to make it more 'homey'.. like take down the hideous beach themed paintings and move the beds around. This time I even hung pictures I'd torn out of National Geographic magazines on my wall which was super lame but super nonetheless.
Little environments that we call home are cool because no matter what situation you find yourself in, you somehow make do with what is available at the time. People use tents as homes and cardboard boxes and caves and other things you know and it's kind of like when you find yourself lost in the wilderness you still look for the most concealed little space where you can be protected from scary things in the world and you do stuff to make it more comfortable like make a fire and a bed from leaves and dirt and stuff and even though the situation is not ideal you still survive, you know! There is no place like home, true, but in desperate times your home can be anywhere, made out of anything! I tend to get hung up on wanting to go home and be safe in my room but I don't know, thinking about it this way makes me feel a little silly!