I am sitting on the side of the road smoking a cigarette, and watching all the everyday people passing me by. They all seem to go somewhere, and I wonder if they truly are. If they have a home to go to. With curtains and a nice little rug in the bathroom that you can stand on when you get out of the shower to dry yourself, and small things on their bookshelf which were bought or collected a long time ago and do not have any style-factor but are kept for the sole reason that a somewhat sentimental memories are linked to them... (my primary school teacher would have cried bitterly had she read that sentence of mine. Seven years she reccomended, demanded, threatened, and begged me to shorten my sentences...) Do they have a place they have all their closes folded neatly on shelves in buildt-in wardrobes, and bathrooms which contains neat little rows of creams and beaty-products which belongs to them? Do they have a place where they can be by themselves, or entertain guests if they so wish, or just hang out and not have to socialise?
I guess so...
I don't!
And sitting on the pavement smoking my cigarette, I am angry. I am pissed of with this city which do not let me find a nice little place I can call my own for the time I want to stay here. Of course, I do not live on this pavement I now sit and smoke my cigarette, neither do I live in that rather attractive bus-shelter just down the road. I do live in a backpacker just around the corner. But the thing is... I don't want to live there. i don't want to be a backpacker here. Somewhere else yes, and sometime else yes, but not now, not here. I want a little place where I can unpack my backpack, and buy small things to decorate the livingroom (which in my case probably will limit themselves to an ashtray and maybe a candleholder if i am in the mood). I want a key and an address...
But not so here. Here, in this city, there are too many people who wants the same as me, and obviously not so many little places to go around. So I lose, and someone else always get what I wanted. So, that's why I am sitting on the side of the road being angry with this city, and being slightly angry and envious of total strangers that pass me by.
***
And then, on the other side. This city makes me so happy and content. I am doing what I have wanted for a long time, and I have travelled far to do so - both in mind and in body...
Today I was in the swimming pool with six other guys and a girl, and a man. I say man, because even if he might not have been any older in age than the rest of us, he was older. He was a man beacuse he had the power to take or give what we wanted so badly. What all the six gyus and the two girls had worked so hard for, and which now the time had come to be granted or taken away. So we were there. Smiling, talking, pretending to be calm, to be cool, to believe we were sure of ourselves. But, every now and then, one or the other would break down, and remove themselves from the rest, and contemplating what would happen was it not granted to them. The anxiety moved around as the famous ring in the cildren game, so even if the group as a whole was happy and confident, one person was always carrying the anxiety untill it was time to pass it on to the next person.
Two days has pasted of this. One more day to go.
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moonwha's trip to somewhere... ©moonwha 'The trick to flying is to throw yourself at the ground and miss...' |
