a house doesnt mean a home.
wen i was little and all the way thru growing until my teens, i've always had a safehouse. a place i culd go to weneva sumtings not right or wen i dun feel like going to skool or wen i haf a quarrel with mumsy. all thru growing up, i've always called that home. maybe because i spent all my time growing in that house. and i dun haf any recollections of any childhood being spent outta it.
tis is wat i call, selective memory. i just choose not too coz being there was the most wonderful time.
there've been so many times since '03 whereby i find myself wanting to pack up and leave and head over to that home. so many times. esp now.
and i missed both of them very much.
