that what is worth of words

Weekly Photo Challenge: Home(less)

“home. since they say, it is where the heart is, i’ll find my true home once i find my heart.”

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not my home, or house. just some surviving house a little right across the space i occupy at present, which i also cannot sentimentally call ‘my home.’ in fact, i do not have any place or physical structure that i can call as such. although i did write a bit about my hometown (my mother’s, and where i spent a decade for education and a few years building a profession that i eventually left), i feel guilty sometimes calling it mine. although it doesn’t complain, i don’t think i still have the right to call it ‘my home’ for i am always somewhere else. in the last few years, i treat it as ‘my retreat house’ because i go there only if i need some, yes, retreating. but i do not have any resentment toward not having a home that i call mine. i like how i have transferred from one town, city, or house to another in my entire existence, and i am even itching right now to move again, if not only for the very cheap cost of the very small space i am currently renting in the very expensive city in this metro i’ve insisted myself into. my aunt was telling my mother that with my present salary, i could already afford to buy a house somewhere in the outskirts of the city. i did try already, but i didn’t continue even if it meant wasting some hard-earned money. i couldn’t commit to more than a year of relationship with a love interest, what makes me think i can for 20-25 years with a Realtor?

back to the house above (photo). it just interested me one lazy afternoon while looking by my room’s window railings. it is sandwiched between tall buildings and modern apartments (which i unfortunately wasn’t able to accurately capture because of the limits of my location), and as you can see, by scary electrical wirings (… calling MERALCO). not a long time ago, this kind of house is already the standard amongst the well-off in the philippines. right now though, it is just trying to survive. it may seem a little out-of-place considering its ‘neighbors,’ but it appears to still stay strong despite some parts being in tatters. and beautiful, i suppose, especially to the family it shelters, the one which calls it home.

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2 responses

  1. I am a Quezon City born and raised, spent childhoold in Malolos then back to Q.C., lived in Cavite and now dwelling in Malate. I — too — dont have a home. Wherever I lay my head, that is home.

    Nice post.

    That house has a lot of tales to tell.

    February 14, 2013 at 1:12 pm

    • I bet. i’m just not that brave to ask its dwellers. And i’m glad you can relate to my post. I spent most of my childhood, too, in Bulacan. Guguinto (oh, memories), to be specific. In fact, this house looks like the one we rented in Bulacan that’s why it caught my interest. Thanks for reading! And yeah, eventually, we all will find the ‘home’ we truly deserve. 🙂

      February 14, 2013 at 1:44 pm

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