Thursday, January 14, 2010

verbal doodles @ dawn

Home. A word. Holding so much inside. Security, peace, contentment. That feeling of belonging. And how exactly do you define home? Especially when the place you were brought up in is far, far away and every time you visit it, its like nauseatic nostalgia all over again.

These walls around me nowadays - are just walls. This is just a box, a house. A temporary arrangement in the things of life. Permanency was lost like the innocence of childhood. Forever.

No place like home. No place called home.

So if I want to run away today, where am I supposed to go?

wish -

the perfect cup of coffee

to paint something that doesn't make me feel useless, doesn't let me tear the page apart

read a nice, comfortable, soothing and thoughtful book

talk with someone without any pretensions, without an ulterior motive, without helplessness wrenching my guts out, without over analysing every word, every thought

stop thinking. please.


Ricky said...

Home still feels like where ever one's parents are :)

blunt edges said...

its very easy 2 stop thinking...i do it all the time :D

Mrinalini said...

habit.home. same thing.

The Sage said...

come on... you know better than that...
home is where heart is... and not a box of four walls... and as far as someone to talk to is concerned, i know of more than two people you can, and you are lucky to have that...

Anonymous said...

@ the sage: yes. You are right. I am just over reacting as usual. - rain girl

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Anonymous said...

am glad u r back to ur virtual dwelling atleast;)keep expressing..:)