When I was young, I dreamt of fancy things, like a couch, a fancy living room, a glamorous lifestyle, and so on. And I just sigh, I don’t know why. Fast forward to these days, I delight whenever I see posts on FB that include pictures of my hometown. The old huts, the rather small houses, the unkempt children, bring me unsolicited comfort plus the memories of my childhood. Now I dream of going back to those days. No money problems, no fats, no stress. But I wouldn’t dream of fancy things anymore. Just simple living would do.