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A lost conversation…

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beingkenny:
I know we’re supposed to be writing on what’s a home, but what I wrote just turned out this way. A house is not a home, but perhaps it’s something else…

Our House
Our house is in perpetual dimness.
Forever twilight – the kind of light, the kind of shade
you get on a drizzly, cloudy day.
And the air chilled, nothing stirs. Maybe a breeze,
but nothing violent.
No sparks of electricity, no dampening cold,
or unsettling heat.
A lazy calm.
Our house. In perpetual dimness.

flutterby_gal:
sounds sad.

beingkenny::
I suppose it does, but it’s home still. It’s nothing bad, I love my home, but sometimes when my family is out and I’m alone and I don’t really wanna go out, and being inside by myself is cool, the house reveals itself… It doesn’t want to be a home all the time, you know. Sometimes, a house wants to shelve its responsibilities aside. It doesn’t want to protect its inhabitants all the time, from rain and burglars. Sometimes, a house wants to creak and moan like it’s a full moon without caring what the neighbourhood might think.

It doesn’t want to party, just sit still and be. Itself or something else. Something different. Just for awhile. Till the family comes back anyway. I like being in our house when it feels this way.

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Current Mood: Quiet.
Current Music:

• Harold Budd with Zeitgeist – Breathless… I
• Nitin Sawhney – Fragile Wind
• Morrissey – Everyday Is Like Sunday

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Credits: Photograph by Julia Starr. Design by Kenny Mah.