home;

My rented room has been in a state of disarray for a grand total of 2 weeks. 2 weeks ago I was 90% done with packing, now I am 91% done with packing. The remaining 9% is probably all the packing I need to do in my heart.

Today I lay in bed, knowing quite well that I have to say good-bye to it. But its luxury compelled me to stay on. It’s as if it’s being intentionally exceptionally comfortable this morning. Such a tease.

I need not cry throwing away most of my stuff (okay la got tear up a little, due to allergies!) because in your 20s, stuff are just…stuff. I no longer hold on to the sentiments that come along with memorabilia, souvenirs and knick-knacks. Afterall, everything is replaceable except people and memories. And none of those things can be packed into a suitcase.

Besides, if we hang on to old things, how are we to make room for the new?



All in all, I suppose I’ve never been happier to be heading home. To a place where we can only did order in chaos. To the place that never sleeps.

And back to the people who love me most.