4.2.11

H O M E

I’m not really sure if I have had a home, for the past seven years, since I’ve been in Singapore. I have a room flat: a shelter with basic but sometimes unreliable infrastructure to allow one to get on with life; a space that we’ve lamentably grown out of so part of our possessions now live in a storage facility 10 minutes down the road; a place where I can do whatever I want, hidden away from public view, but I don’t know if I have ever felt completely relaxed here. I’d hesitate to call it a home.

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