Monday, April 7, 2008


When you travel around on extended flimsy whims there’s a lack of normalcy in your daily life. A certain stability of family is missing, and although you are greeted with the most welcoming arms, you will always feel that there’s an emptiness in your life. Along comes amazing. People who act as your substitute family, people you can return to and never feel the lesser for it. People who has already accepted your quirky flaws, people who will even appreciate those. People who’ll have a bed made ready and waiting. People who’ll open their door when they’re not home, let you know where the key is, and even expect you to be there when they get home. This is family. It’s where you can open the fridge and find food, sleep in a bed and rest good, make a fool of yourself and wake up sans paranoia, and overall believe that they’ll love you nonetheless. My fortune is the greatest in that I have people just like this, whose homes I feel warm in and presence I crave. This is my family, these are my friends. It’s when the lines blur between friends and family and you end up with framilends.