Finding My Place

I was born in a country that is rich in culture and tradition both bad and good. I’ve never been there for the last five years but the last time I came to visit it was difficult not to notice the immense changes that had happened since I left it some thirty years ago. It didn’t come all of a sudden like so many things in life, the changes came gradually, almost unnoticeable till one day you can’t help but staring at it full in the face. The moral and values I grew up with are almost nonexistent and the respect and camaraderie that once held the community together are nowhere in sight. Probably still exist in some forgotten villages somewhere in the mountains where people are not yet fully immersed in materialistic way of life and commercialism but I doubt it. Social media has long tentacles and they can even reach even those who are innocent of its existence and have no means of acquiring expensive gadgets. There are computers in schoosl or internet cafes in town and sooner or later they will discover the amazing fantasy land called cyber world and once tasted it can become addictive as in most cases. My beloved country is changing and it’s not for the better, If I had difficulties living there before because of narrow one track minded prejudiced judgmental people who put label on everything according to their limited cranial capacity and understanding and looking down on anything that is not according to their tastes, I cannot possibly live there now.  

Being brought up isolated by tyrannical parents and being part of a dysfunctional family who moved a lot I never find where I belong, my roots had been pulled out before they can even have a chance to settle and get hold. We never had a contingency to grow and flourish in a familiar soil. I’ve said these already before, If I could reach for something brilliant that would be the home which been denied to me and the presence of the peace I’ve never known. Young as I was when I’ve been forced to marry a stranger and joined him in his country so my family can better their lives, my genetic make up is already set and hardened, no amount of foreign influence can change my true nature, I still crave a gypsy existence and the total freedom that goes with it. Besides, I could not and will never understand their way of dealing with things, mundane or important. The way they are not able to speak the truth and their thoughts and show their real feelings, hiding the dirty laundry inside although it’s already stinking too much in there, they rather suffer and not breathe as long as they can keep up appearances and retain (in their mind) the polished image they value and worship. 

Another thing I cannot understand about my new surrounding is the people rarely smile (unless they are intoxicated) big houses and even bigger cars and every morning I encounter them in the streets they all look like they are just about ready to murder anyone given a slight provocation. Aren’t they happy with what they have?

No, I still didn’t find the place where I truly belong. I am so much individualistic to belong to any group especially if they consist of women whom aside from the obvious I have nothing in common with. My interests lay somewhere else most of them are never been because it is not glitzy enough. Like I said in one of my recent posts:

I am neither here nor there 

Stuck forever in Limbo

My culture tampered with 

Tainted, altered, contaminated

I belong nowhere exile indefinitely

Where is my home?

crossing_with_teddy_by_darkness_in_the_lens

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