Since when does being at home make me feel like i’m on holiday. Through the transparent curtain of my giant bedroom, lies flowers and trees. Green glasses spread across the front yard with little birds flying around. It has been ages since i last heard a bird sings. Some details in life, we never really remember.
My life used to be more refreshing. And I used to have more space. Since i fall in love with living in a cube inside the skyscraper forest, i never look back. But nothing beats waking up to a fresh morning with a cup of black coffee and warm light sneaking through curtains. Though the fact that my room is always air-coned make the whole i love nature thing pretty much fake, i still appreciate a little bit of nature. Never are things nice at an extreme level.
I took some parts of the room with me. Everywhere i go. Just so the cube i am renting in the city feel a bit more like home, i attached a photo of him on the wall. Every photos of him i put on any kind of walls, always look like a foreign object that ruins the atmosphere. But that foreign object is my object. It’s what make any kind of place mine.
My feeling towards him has evaporate through time. But that string will never vanish. It's invisible and it’s as light as feather, almost a none existent object. But it’s always there. And i love for it to be there.
Now i see him more like an imaginary friend who i talk to during hard time. I told him secrets that i never expose to anyone. I took a guy from reality and i turn him into something else. I don’t care anymore as to what he does in real life, but he lasts forever in my memory, in a form of some kind of saviour.
Probably we all have that kind of function in our brain, the cope-with-sadness function, but i just turn that function into a character, that basically look like him.
I found myself distanced from him when life is good. I talk to him only in desperate time. I don’t know if it make myself more desperate considering i am talking to a poster on a wall, but at least it help me notice that whenever i talk to him and cry, i have sink to the lowest of the low.
Lately i haven’t been talking to him though. There’s someone else who i love to share my secrets with. And this time he talks back with a shining smile that will give your heart a pump of fresh air. I can always feel a sense of security hidden in that warming vibes when you smile. “It will be alright”, that’s the feeling.
Home is the most comfortable place for body and soul. Who knows, probably, i might have found something that feel more like home than him.
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