For the first 30 something years of my life, where I live was never something to worry about. As a child, I was overjoyed to move from our house (of which I have zero memory) to a new one that my father has built (not literally of course) in the same town. it was built on my grandmother’s land, part of her house remains – it was attached to the new structure. It was typical of a semi kampung house – made of bricks but surrounded by land, trees..well,  SPACE.

Where I lived during my schooling years was out of my hand – which dorm which block. It got more interesting as I went abroad. The first year was spent with a foreign family and the rest spent living with friends. Still at this point there was no great fuss or worry involved as far where I live is concerned. Never did I suffer living with the roommate from hell. I did room with celine dion’s world greatest fan in 1998. Each morning she would put the same titanic song when she wakes up and since it was her radio I never did protest. See, I was still nice in 1998 :p well, eventually she graduated from celine dion to backstreet boys. It was then my character grew and grew.  Or my skin. Anyways

The question of where to live became a question (what kind of sentence is this?) as the marriage was becoming undone, crumbling or ending (I love synonyms).

Do I live in this house? Or do I leave? Well eventually I did leave because for me it wasn’t enough for me to say I am moving on but I needed to physically move on. Get myself unattached to something that wasn’t there anymore.  So I packed my stuff and left. Well of course I had to pack a gazillion other things that didn’t belong to me too. 

The easiest way to move is to rent and that’s what I did. Highly recommended if your ex is harassing you about his big house that he paid for and asking you to f-ing get out each time he feels like it. of course not recommended if you give a rat’s bottom about what others are thinking or saying about you.

Well just like I married the wrong guy, I also chose the wrong freaking landlord. A smooth talker who changed his mind at the very last minute (in retrospect I think this tactic is common) and changed the lease from  2 to 1 year with meaningless assurance abt continuing the lease. I was the sucker, I admit it. After the excitement and the fatigue of packing and unpacking died down, I found out that another move is on the horizon. Luckily zen is now my middle name. Divorce? Sure! Move again after 1 year? Why not???

Well I am glad that my nomad days will be over in……about two years!  At least there is a house at the end of the wait. I just have to work these bones for another 30 years! But like I said, sure why not????


Published by: mizrae

I am not always nice, but I can be. I like reading more than writing, and I wish I write better than I do. I hope that I listen more than I speak because honestly, that's the kind of people I am drawn to.


2 thoughts on “Homes”

  1. hi.i hope you’ll find the right house for you where u’ll find the most peace and sense of belonging. for me it’s always nice to live in a ‘kampung’ environment.provided u have wifi of course. as they say, ‘home is where the heart is’

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