A House Is Not A Home

This is a story about not knowing what the inside of your house looks like. You know there are probably pictures of your childhood, drawings maybe framed on the wall, but you can't put your finger on where they are. You know you have a living room with a couch, a TV and a table, but you can't remember the layout. The kitchen has utensils, food and a fridge, but you would not be able to describe where they are. Your room should be filled with pieces of you, but instead, there sits a bed and a dresser, a few posters on the walls, but you know that it doesn't scream your personality. You barely know if the shower has white or beige tiles. Thinking, Maybe there's a plant or some type of decoration by the front door? Then again, where is the front door? . You know your brother's room most likely has a strange smell coming from it, but you wouldn't know how bad because you are simply never home. But if you don't even know what your home looks like, how can you call it that?