When I think about it it's not really my desiscion to make. If we're both hesistant then maybe it's better not to go there. And besides, even though he knows me really well there are things he does'nt know, and I don't know how he would react to them.
On the other hand that goes for everyone.
Walking home through town, eating a pizza slice from Fast Al's, I start to wonder if I'm ever going to feel at home anywhere. 'Cause even though I love Cork, despite the rain, the filth, the blood on the sidewalk, the girls dressed as chubby prostitutes (I'm really really sorry but they are), even though the city still makes me happy, swallows me up and makes me a part of the slightly insane soup of different people and places and rain, I am a stranger and I don't think that feeling will go away. In Lund people know who I am, I know the city, everything is something I've seen before but never felt like a part of.
Here... I feel like a part of it, I guess, but I'm still a stranger. I don't know these people or their ways. I'm a social tourist, watching from the outside all the time. I don't even really know any Irish people. Eva maybe, and Daithi, who moved to London.
Whatever. The point is-
I really don't know. I heard someone say that no matter how you choose there will always be the knowledge of what you did'nt choose, and you'll never know. So there are no right choices, I think, because you can never know what you don't have, so you really can't compare.
It's times like these I just want to leave everything behind, be swallowed by new places, forget about my life. But I've done that already and the past is still a part of me, even more then before maybe.
I have always felt like a stranger, and maybe I always will.
I really don't know what this post is about. I should'nt write at night.
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
You know I could have written this. Context might have been different, but the principal the same. And I like your style of writing too.
Post a Comment