‘a place i call home’

writing feels familiar.

always knowing i have a home to come back to if needed.

whether it’s running back as fast as the hand writes about the highs,

or a slow path of scoffing feet, head to the ground, tear filled eyes not knowing how to begin.

at times the door is locked…

it’s so frustrating finding the way home, all alone in dark, walking through alleyways that are usually avoided, only to arrive to a locked door to the place supposedly called ‘home’.

but i love my home.

very anal about it, i must admit – certain rooms for certain moments.

particular decorations for particular areas.

i like to keep all rooms tidy and neat, but at times, it’s hard to keep up when the intruder steps in.

never peaks in to the rooms they haven’t seen, instead heads straight downstairs to the locked cellar.

the intruder doesn’t show up too often, but i have created a space for when they do come, just incase.

a space for them to feel somewhat at home in my home.

the decorations are completely different to the rest of my home, and i really do try my best to just let it be..

over the years it has gotten a little easier, but i can’t help myself.

once left, i peek in. each time my heart re-rips open, raw, tender and sore.

never shut out. no matter how hard. locked key, yet know how to open the door.

my home changes quite often actually.

the years before i never liked change. i’ve come to terms and can admit that now.

i learnt it’s better to change to the new needs one has, than have a home with no-one wanting to stay.

the home i live in now is, (i’d like to admit) is bigger and better than ever before, but it always feels that way in the moment, i guess that’s the wonders of my home.

at times so proud of a new souvenir, i open the door to others.

shoes off first, hot cup of tea in hand, showing them to the room that holds the new creation.

it wasn’t easy at first, allowing others into my beautiful, warm home.

what is they steal my treasures?

what if they think it’s not good?

what if they run to the cellar?

what if they knock down a whole room?

but once the first visitor was welcomed, i knew the decision was right.

to share parts of my home and help you to turn on the light.

-mao x

18/02/2016

if this sparked your interest in journaling and you are curious on why it’s important and how to begin, heres an article for you to read x