Home?Just recently, I read a short sad poem about “home” in the internet and I can’t help but feel grateful of my home, that’s why I decided to write this one.
As a kid, home was the stick figure I usually draw with my big crayons. It was where I go after school, where I eat my meals and where I spend my time. Home was where I wake up and sleep, home was where I get scolded for having low scores on exams, home was where my favorite grandfather died and home was the only place I could run into. As I grow older and the more I spend time outside, I get to realize what “home is where your heart is” and “home sweet home” means.
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She wonders and wandersMonica writes about her life, what she eats, what she reads and where she goes. This space is where her thoughts, experiences, memories and feelings turn into words. She's glad that she can share with you. Archives
August 2021
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