Desde sempre somos confrontados com binómios antagónicos: O Bem e o Mal, o peso e a leveza do nosso amigo Kundera, o quente e o frio, o ser e o não ser...
Mas toda a minha vida o binómio que se apresentou mais complicado de resolver foi o que opõe as diversas perspectivas de a encarar: o copo meio cheio ou meio vazio.
Mas será que a escolha resolverá alguma coisa? É que, no fundo e apesar do livre arbítrio, a vida será sempre o meio copo que, incansavelmente, tentamos encher...
Home is not the place where you store your stuff. Home
is not the office, regardless the amount of time you spend within its walls.
Home is not the city where you were born, or the house where you used to live.
Most of the times,
the place we call home is not even a place!
Sometimes home is just a book, an old song or morning-coffee smell.
Sometimes, home is your parents, your children, your
grandparents, your brothers and sisters, your cousins, uncles and aunts. Other
times, home is your friends or even your pets.
Sometimes home is the love of your life, without whom
you feel always misplaced in the world. And sometimes home is someplace else.
But, if you get really, really lucky, your home is in all
the above. The bigger your heart is, the bigger the home.
And in that case, no
matter where you are, no matter where you stand in life, you must know one thing for
sure: you will never be homeless.