“I have been a queer mixture of the
East and West, out of place every-
where, at home nowhere…I cannot
be of the [West]. But in my own
country, also, sometimes, I have an
This is who I am. This is me. I am this place and it is mine to have, to succumb to, lay down and curl up next to it.
I felt that way in Sydney. I felt that way in only, maybe, 2 or 3 places on this earth that I have so far visited, and those places seem to lay so far beyond the outside of reality for most people, so far from the “rest”of the world that it is hard for many people to imagine them, let alone talk to someone who never feels at home where he is meant to be, but feels isolated, alone and reclusive. Its those feelings that lead one to write more, but it is also those that feed my fire to leave, to move on and to experience places, people and those “exotic” locales that leave you wondering just where in the world is he. Its nice, and I like being a bit secretive about it, but I also realize that I should hold on to those places that make me feel truly like myself, where I don’t feel like I have to be someone different just to fit in and where friends are not just friends but those people who honestly understand me, don’t ask stupid questions (which is known to happen, despite the old adage that no questions are stupid, yes indeed, some are, honest) and who accept me for my misgivings, sins and pro-quos — leaving me feeling normal, which is about all I can seem to ask for now.
These are the people I am at home with, and as much as I talk about home, think about home, describe home, it is the social aspects of home that make it for me, not necessarily where my things are at. Things can be moved, but social-isms of a place, of those friends and places can’t be changed or corrected, only accepted and idealized.
I have a problem with idealization, but for the most part, I have been able to overcome that by attempting to be more realistic, although those two things do not go hand in hand, they are in fact the most opposite forces that I deal with daily. I am a romantic and I find daily happiness in those feelings, but also more alienation when I can’t fully describe those thoughts to those around me. I long to have all of my friends in one place at one time, and I am increasingly less trustful, interested and happy about Facebook, digital friendships and the quarry of problems that come with those types of information sources.
So where do I feel at home now? On trains. On airplanes and those out of world locations that those means of transport tend to frequent. Airports and stations are the most freeing spots for me, where I can be who I am, or who I’m not — and no one really considers the difference. I can blend in and fall through the cracks and I enjoy every moment of that.