Home, Sweet and Lovely Home

I sit by myself in the living room, in front of my laptop. Easy-listening music is played softly on the background. The clock ticks slowly, as if it feels too lazy to move its second. Some trees out there are dancing very, very slowly. Apparently the wind is also too lazy to move. It is sunny outside; couch potatoes like me would rather stay at home and get fat relax.

I’m going to write about this house, which now has become my home for several months. I write for myself; I know I’m gonna miss it someday when I hit the road or when I come back to my old house.

My home is located on a border area between Bandung and Cimahi. My parents decided to rent this house because it’s closer to their office and to their children’s schools, and is affordable. I remember my first impression of the house: felt like it was so far away from the city. The road was rocky and it was deadly quiet because the house is located at the end of the road–no one passes by. The inside of house looked weird as well; I couldn’t understand what was on the architecture’s mind when he designed the house–if there was any architecture at all. On those early days, my parents often visited the house to clean and renovate it.

After the renovation was finished and the furnitures were all placed, I don’t think I can leave this house. Ever.

Why do I feel so attached to this house?

This house and its environment give positive energy to me: it has lots of windows, so I don’t need to turn on any lights during the day except for bathrooms. I like to hangout with my family in the living room; laughing, telling stories, eating, or just being immersed on our own gadgets. It’s just… it feels good to live here. The neighbours are also nice; I remember their faces because I sometimes jog in the morning. Every morning I can see kids going to kindergarten, naive and full of curiosity. Every afternoon they will play soccer on the field and the girls will cheer at them. Some dads are also active; I’ve seen them countless times playing tennis (yes, we have a tennis court as well). It’s very lively. I like it here.

The house also has stories of travellers who came by and stayed for awhile. They are from Indonesia, Canada, France, Philippines, Taiwan, Germany, and still counting. We shared stories, inspired each other, and often they would cook me food from their countries even though I didn’t ask. They became my new friends even though we only met for a short time. Some people would be too worried or anxious to let someone they don’t know to stay in their house, but not me. I guess I will always naively think that people are kind (even though I got hurt several times for being too trustful) and they all have interesting stories to share. I still believe in humanity. This house is the witness of kindness and love one can give to other human being.

In a peaceful morning, I exercise or meditate on my backyard, which is big enough to play badminton. Being surrounded by nature, with only the sound of breeze passing through the trees and of birds chirping, would do good for one’s mind and heart. Often I would just lay on the mattress, close my eyes, and feel the life in me and my surrounding. It’s calming. What a wonderful feeling.

I love living here. 🙂


Sound of Sunday Mornings

(I wrote this based on today’s Daily Prompt: Sound. Enjoy!)

If you were to ask me, “What is the difference between Sunday and any other day?” I would certainly say, “It is the sound.”

I still live with my parents, who have two houses: Weekday House and Weekend House. Their real house is the Weekend House (I mean, they actually own it. Meanwhile, the Weekend House is only rented), but my family and I often stay in the Weekday House because it is closer to our schools and workplaces. Besides, the Weekday House is bigger and more open–it has more windows, has wider front and back yards, and does not have a fence. It makes me feel like there is no barriers between me and my neighbours, and it is a nice feeling. Moreover, I like to meditate on my backyard because it feels very peaceful there. 😉

Anyway, there is one thing that I really hate about the house: it is always noisy in the morning! I am always waken up by the blaring sound of telly (Mom always turns it on every morning to wake up everyone), the loud banging of Mom knocking my door so hard… I have no idea why everyone and everything seem to make loud sounds every morning. It never fails to ruin my morning! I always wake up groggily, often still sleepy but cannot go back to sleep. It sucks.

Except Sunday mornings!

You know what, there is this one weird thing about Mom: she does not want to rent the Weekend House because she feels hard to trust other people to live there. Thus, the house is just left unused for 5 days a week which, for me, is illogical because she has to spend money for weekly maintenance (and has to do cleaning frenzy as well–actually that is what she does every time she comes there), and it is such a waste of time and money. The house becomes a liability, not an asset, if you know what I mean. I have suggested to rent the house several times and hire a maid to help her clean the house, but she just would not listen. Whatever, Mom. Lol.

Anyway, I have gotten one advantage out of Mom’s weirdness: I can have the whole Weekday House for myself every weekend! (I always choose to stay there because it is simply inconvenient for me to stay in the other house, only to sleep my ass off, then have to go back later.) Yes, smart people, you guess it right. What makes my Sunday mornings different with other day mornings is I can sleep as much as I want without being disturbed by the sound of telly! I know I have mentioned lots of sounds, but it is telly’s that I hate the most. When I am alone, in the morning I will be waken up only by the sounds of bird chirping or wind breezing through the trees. (Yes, it is that quiet if I am the only one who stay at home. My house is located at the end of the road, so no one passes by with no reason.)

It feels like Day of Silence every time I am home alone. Haha!

Well, that is a teeny tiny bit of my daily life. Now that I write about it, it seems silly that I am annoyed by small things such as the sound of telly, and can immediately feel relaxed and satisfied after I turn it off. How about you? 😉