Home. What does that word mean? Lately I’ve been trying to work that one out. My current flat had been flooded and subsequently I’ve been evicted by the landlady in order to do refurbishments; after that she’s planning to sell the place so unfortunately I can no longer live there. So, I’ve been hopping from various spare rooms, beds and sofas from my gracious friends, who I owe dearly. Unfortunately, it’s also why I haven’t been on my blog for a while as I haven’t had a chance to go on a computer with internet access till recently, new posts are going to be a bit sparse until I settle down somewhere new. Anyway, despite feeling tired and displaced I realised looking back now, I never left home, perhaps not home in a ‘building’ sense but through this process I realised how many good people I’ve met and love, who have given me a bit of their home for me to share, even if was only for a night. As long as I have good friends and family nearby I will always feel at home, because, you might have a fancy flat with all the bells and whistles or you might just have a rock to your name, it’s the company that make a house a home.
The photos above are photos of High Wycombe, the area I live and study, I took them during my foundation year but never really showed them to anyone till now. Enjoy.