Rant & Raves

Last night I was on the phone with a friend of mine, and she called me a nomad.

Now that I think about it, she’s right.

A home is where the heart belongs. It is a place where one will get very comfortable, very warm, and very secured. A home is a place where you can be yourself, have your own privacy, even if that means if you want to get completely naked, no one will bother because it is your home sweet home.

A home is a place where you can go back to after a long day of hard work, to rest and to rejuvenate. A home is a place where you can automatically reach even if you are pissed drunk. A home is a place where you would like to stay during your free time.

A home is your sanctuary. You find solitude in it, you feel safe in it, and you feel comfortable in it.

But the sense of belonging, for me, is a distance memory. It has been such a long time since the last time I felt happy. It seems like centuries ago and I can’t even remember the last time when I was happy.

I used to have a home, a home sweet home. I had a life where I spent years to build. But it has changed now. Ever since Maria and I broke up, I moved out from my home, my home sweet home. I became a nomad. Not a lot of people know about this, but the truth is I had been staying in the office since the day I moved out. I didn’t want to mention about this at first because I didn’t want to draw any sympathy from anyone, but decided to reveal this little dark secret of mine after I had moved out from my office weeks ago.

I am grateful for my friend to take me in when I needed help. I have been staying in his house for the past few weeks, but it is not my home. It is not where my heart belongs. So the truth remains that I am still homeless.

My mom’s house, the one in my hometown, is a house to me. My dad, before he passed away, decided to move 3 months after I went to the States to further my studies. I spent 7 years in the States, and when I came back, I quickly found a job and moved to Kuala Lumpur / Petaling Jaya area, and I have been working for the past 7 years. So I spent little time there, and truth to be told; until now, I still don’t know which switch is for the lights and the fans. Whenever I am there, I just blindly press the switches and see which one is which. And that’s why sometimes I don’t go back to my hometown for months, even though it is just about 40 minutes drive away.

Because I cannot call that home. My home.

My home has disappeared. My home has been destroyed. I am homeless.

So you are right, my friend (you know who you are). I am a nomad. I am homeless and I will move to where there is a place that is willing to take me in.

The fact remains that sometimes I don’t think there is a difference if I were to sleep on a street or in a friend’s house because I am still homeless nonetheless. But again, I am really grateful for my friend to take me in when I am going through such a rough patch. So I would like to take this opportunity to thank him (you know who you are).

Of course, I am trying to change the situation. Unfortunately, Rome is not built in a day, so it will take time.

Another friend of mine made a comment the other day, saying that my blog has become darker. No, she wasn’t referring to the color scheme, but the content of my postings. She said that my posts used to be funny, but now it’s dark in the sense that I have been talking about human beings, sadness, depression, and all that.

I am sorry. I have lost all my sense of humor, however little I had, when I lost my home, when I lost my sense of belonging. The post that I have been writing for the past few months have been the truth from my heart, of how I feel, of what I had experienced. It’s not like I try not to regain whatever I have lost, but sometimes I just feel so tired, so exhausted, mentally and physically. I have to deal with so many issues in my life that sometimes I just thought of giving up.

No, I am not talking about suicide. I am talking about giving up in the sense that I just don’t heck care what is going to happen next and just go with the flow. Giving up in the sense that I put down everything, all the burdens on my shoulder, and move to another country, start a life from scratch, be a nobody and forget everything that has ever happened here.

I have been carrying a big load of burdens on my shoulder. There are many things that I cannot reveal to my family members because if my mom knows, she will be worried sick, and I mean she will get sick. I cannot tell my sisters because they don’t keep secrets from my mom so if I were to tell them, my mom will eventually find out. I have been keeping everything in my self, not telling anyone, and it is a burden that I have to bear.

I am sorry that my posts have been dark. I just cannot help it because I am living in a dark period of my life.

Anyway, for those who are celebrating, HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY