pen

So this's 'the pen'.
I don't recall it being mine.

I find it confusing/somewhat profound, how one's lifestyle can change when living alone. Eat or sleep become equal chores as doing weekly laundry or washing dishes. When there're two as friends or lovers, or three as a happy family, one carefully prepares a meal enjoyed by all. I sleep early so as not to disturb my roommate; or clean up routinely to give it the feeling of a home. But alone, everything becomes functional rather than bearing any real meaning. There's no heart, no thought. The brain decides by instinct what's essential for basic living. When I'm not with them, my parents never bother with cooking. Those tiny gestures of significance become visible when the picture's reduced to its base colours. Or is it just me, someone who doesn't know how to take care of herself. But there's simply no need, neither a desire when I'm doing it for nobody but me alone. Strip away the decorations and life seems different.