The hostel in Brisbane that's been home for years now has a laundry room. Washers, dryers, right there. I've never touched them. Next door — same owner, different building — there's another room like it. More machines, even. But that's not what I go there for. It has a proper ironing board. A sink big … Continue reading Two Pairs of Hands
minimalism
Name Tags
Some places ask for your name before anything else. A hospital shift. A hostel check-in. A new job. An event. You say your name. You write it down. It appears on a roster, a sticker, or a food bag. For a while, that label becomes part of your day. At work, people know my name … Continue reading Name Tags
Settling Into Not Settling
People come and go. I stay. I've been living in hostels for nearly eight years now. For the last five, I haven't checked out. Extend. Pay. Extend again. The body sleeps. The mind keeps moving. Greyhound buses. Regional trains. Hostel kitchens. Temporary conversations. Another week. Another payment. Another season. At first, I was just staying … Continue reading Settling Into Not Settling
Buying Less
After enough buses, hostels, train stations, and constant check-outs, buying things started feeling different. Not because I became disciplined. Not because I suddenly became a minimalist. Movement simply changed the emotional weight of ownership. A thick long-sleeve flannel shirt could start feeling “too heavy” after enough Greyhound and Queensland Rail rides across Australia. A souvenir … Continue reading Buying Less
Eventually, Even Freedom Became Routine
There was a time when freedom felt cinematic. Long bus rides across Australia. Train platforms before sunrise. Late-night hostel kitchens. Backpacks resting beside bunk beds. Random conversations with strangers who would disappear a few days later. Back then, movement still felt meaningful. Every new city looked like it might change something. Every check-out felt symbolic. … Continue reading Eventually, Even Freedom Became Routine
Why I Stayed in Hostels Longer Than Most Relationships
I’ve been checking in and checking out of hostels in Australia for almost eight years now. Not from the very beginning. When I first arrived in Australia, I stayed for a while in an empty house in Mindarie, north of Perth, owned by someone my brother knew. After that came the more familiar international student … Continue reading Why I Stayed in Hostels Longer Than Most Relationships
Almost Home, Never Settled
I used to think home was a place. Address. City. Country. But the longer I move, the less clear it becomes. Home is not a location anymore. It is a feeling. Datang sebentar. Lalu pergi lagi. In Australia, there is this feeling: almost home. Work is stable. Routine builds. Faces become familiar. Life works. But … Continue reading Almost Home, Never Settled
Not Homeless. Just Less Owned.
“The things you own end up owning you.” — Chuck Palahniuk — Di Australia, ada satu hal yang terasa janggal: Seseorang bisa punya semuanya—kerja tetap, kamar sewa, rutinitas shift, bahkan sebotol wine tiap malam— tapi tetap merasa seperti… hanya numpang hidup. Dan di sisi lain, seseorang bisa hidup dengan sangat sedikit—tas punggung, tiket bus, kerja … Continue reading Not Homeless. Just Less Owned.
Mirror, Not a Dream
“We are not disturbed by things, but by the view we take of them.” — Epictetus — Mungkin bukan Australia yang berubah. Mungkin… cara kita melihat diri sendiri yang akhirnya tidak bisa berbohong lagi. Australia Bukan Mimpi Banyak orang datang ke sini dengan script yang sama: More money. More shifts. More stability. Katanya ini the … Continue reading Mirror, Not a Dream
Freedom Is Lighter Than You Think
"A man is rich in proportion to the number of things which he can afford to let alone." — Henry David Thoreau — Banyak orang datang ke Australia membawa mimpi besar. Lebih banyak uang. Lebih banyak shift. Lebih banyak stabilitas. More hours. More savings. More plans. Tidak ada yang salah dengan itu. Sebagian dari kita … Continue reading Freedom Is Lighter Than You Think
OZ HOBO 