Home. It’s an abstract term. You realise it when you’re not at home anymore. What is home they ask? Family? Work? Is home a subjective term? Does everybody even have a home? Mind you I didn’t say a house, I said home.

When you’re outside and you’re still as comfortable, then that’s probably home. What is weird is when you start feeling detached while thinking about what you would conventionally call home.

It is then you start thinking about why some people stick on to their houses, which they claim to be their homes, for so long. Is it the fear of finding something worse, or the loss of hope through bitter experiences, or just lack of initiative and drive?

If you think about the concept in its entirety, ‘home’ is the constant in a mans ever changing life. Man resists change, and if he can’t resist the change, he can always go back home,to familiarity, to the illusion of safety, to love, at least that’s what they call it.

If man didn’t have a home, if man went with the flow of the tide, he would be in the midst of constant change. But it is familiarity we seek, to help build trust, to help build a comfortable wall to help get away from change.
Hence even, the concept of family.

Family was created to help provide a support system amongst those who are compatible and are familiar enough to be comfortable. It is in this comfort that we seek solace, hide and believe that we will find order in this chaos we called life.
So what is home? A concept? A physical location? Or a cheat code to live?!


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Someone who writes, just to write, nothing else.

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