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The age has come when I feel like going back home to see familiar faces which can give me peace, though maybe annoying kinda peace. And listen to small squabbles and crying which I know I will miss one day when they are gone. It is just the age where one would feel like settling down and knowing that no matter how hard and difficult life is, it would always be beautiful with all the special people around.

Not that I am complaining about life now. Life is good – at the office. At the office, I can block out disturbing emotions and focus on what I have to do. When at home, life just doesn’t seem right somehow (Now it is clearly because of my broken down clothes rack which makes my room look like a50-year old ship wreck). Office is where I can escape and be free. It’s like dejavu. I felt like this 13 years ago. At that time school and tuition classes were my escape places. Home is definitely not where the heart is.

After a long 5-hour discussion with a friend a few weeks ago, we came to a conclusion that being workaholic is by default the nature of people who wants to escape the fact that they are actually lonely. Muahahahhahahaha….