lot of people today. My mom,elder sister and nephew are all home. We
came to visit my paternal home-the place hasn't changed much. I love
that there's electricity. I am astounded that water is scarce. But
being home has never been this relaxing. The breeze is great,just what
a writer needs to pen down her/his thoughts. How often do we get to
that place of solace? What happens then? We all yearn for time at the
place when we are at peace. I figured that writing in my corner helps.
It gets better when no one disturbs me. Dreaming of that place of
solace is great. So,before you get to your chores tomorrow-hope you
get time for thought and peace. I have to figure out the difference
between emotional exhaustion and baggage.