When I return 'home', home feels like these two photos.
Home is the view from the 30th storey of my parents' home. Home is the sweaty, messy stickiness under your armpits in the food centres nestled in high rise buildings with the roar of woks as loud as jet engines. Home is sweating in 95F / 35C and still electing to drink boiling temperature soup, and hot beverages, in a hot not airconditioned food court inside a high rise building.