Houses
September 19th, 2007
For some odd reason, houses and homes have been shoved into the front of my mind, begging for analysis of some sort. I don’t know why, really. I personally enjoy living in an apartment with my husband. It’s small enough to be cozy yet big enough to have guests over comfortably. It is fairly easy to clean (the hardest part is getting in the mood to clean it), and if we had to…it would be relatively easy to leave.
Houses, on the other hand, seem so big. Even small 1-2 bedroom houses seem so big. I guess growing up all over the world has left me with the feeling that nowhere will ever be my permanent home until I reach Home. Thinking about that makes me feel awkward…then it makes me feel proud…then it makes me feel guilty…then I usually feel like I want to snack on something, and the thought passes away only to resurface again later on.
I cannot imagine what it must be like to live in one or three places one’s entire life…and then to move off to college (biggest change ever), then to maybe get married (another big change), only to live in one or three places again. The sense of stability seems priceless but also potentially boring. I don’t know. I must be a nomad or something.
Anyways…houses. They are just shells. It’s what happens inside that really matters. Some houses hide secrets that its residents do not want others to ever know. Others cultivate lives that will change the world…