every year i step onto the land where i was born, and i feel a familiar sense of “home”. everything so familiar, and so easy to acclimate. i thrive, possibly because i am on vacation mode…with no actualization of the real day to day. yet, a short 13 hour flight later, as i walk through the gates by the immigration officer, and hear the words “welcome home”, i feel an odd sense of joy and the anticipation of walking back into familiar routines.
upon my return to my daily routine, i find myself reflecting on a very simple concept: who am i.
i no longer know the definition of fundamental concepts, such as me…and on most days, i am not quite sure where i belong. i live with an everpresent fear of not fitting in but i know there are those who love me, who care for me because of me, because of who i am, and not who i project. oddly, these same people are not my kin. i hide my true self from those who claim to love me most, because their love would require me to wear shackles i’ve learned to shed.
perhaps more of my mindless mumblings to come later…