I'ts been four months since we are homeless, literally. After my Mom and Dad decided to sell the house I've grown in for 25 years, we are separated in some places. My Mom and Dad decided to live within their factory in Wedi - Klaten and My Brother decided to stay and work in Jakarta. Here I am, staying in this small city where I can enjoy night-city view from hills. It really amuses me. Now, it is not about the time for me complaining about our homeless condition. What matter is not about how sad it is having no house to come in and gather with family, but the deeper meaning of having home, A dwelling place together with the family or social unit that occupies it. My home is a person to return when I'm happy or sad, my family and bestfriends. Their warmest hug and kisses are like my bedroom, their laugh is like a baked-bread smelled from the kitchen, their voice are like flowers in the garden, their advices are like my living room, the way they treat me is like a very cozy bathroom that washes my pain away. Their presence are within in every room in my heart.
.: ost. "Pulang" by Float :.
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