Hometown is A Town, Not A Home, Though

Halo Buddies...

In 2016, I decided to move to the capital because I dreamed of being independent and becoming a writer with access to a wide range of information. At that time, social media and technology weren't what they are today, so I thought moving to Jakarta was an option—to avoid the demands of being a civil servant, LOL. I wanted to be free, to do whatever was right—especially being a writer. So, with hard work and a bit of stubbornness, I finally began my journey in Jakarta, which continues to this day.

People say Jakarta is a busy city and it's difficult to survive there. That's true. Those who can survive in Jakarta are the chosen few—they say. I've seen some of my friends who left Jakarta earlier have now moved back, citing the harshness of Jakarta. But for me, Jakarta is the most comfortable city to live in. I feel more at peace when I'm in Jakarta. But this isn't about Jakarta.

The comfort of Jakarta makes me rarely return to my hometown. And when that time comes, I feel like my hometown is a town, not home. Everything feels so foreign. The streets I used to walk, I don't recognize them. So much has changed, the people, the buildings, and every time I return home I find that some people are gone. There was a moment when I asked myself—what kind of feeling is this? Everything feels so foreign and strange.

In fact, I've lived here for more than half my life. I spent my childhood, teenage, and young adult years here, a town called hometown. But now, everything feels so unfamiliar to me.

Then I realized that nothing truly belongs to me. Hometown or Now-town, none of it belongs to me.

Nothing truly belongs to us except ourselves.

Hasta La Vista...

Thanks in advance, to read my blog and hope you like my post!
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