Realization: In less than 48 hours I will be home. Like, my home town. Stuck in the Columbubble. And then, I get to go and switch bubbles...
Fuck.
I still don't get how you can be simaltaneously so god damn home sick and yet not want anything more than to never go home...
"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night, who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz..."
About Me
- Me, I'm holding out hope for a zombie attack
- “What are you, life? A silent theater of Chinese shadows, a chain of dreams, a charlatan’s store? Or a gift of unrequited love---that’s all that is intended for me? What about happiness? Ingrate, you’re alive, you weep love strive fall and that’s not enough? What?...Not enough? Oh, is that so? There isn’t anything else.”--Tatyana Tolstaya
1 comment:
I understand what you mean, I just went through a similar realization in the Plaza de la Constitución in Montevideo about half an hour ago. By this time next week, I´ll be home, packing to go back to Lewis & Clark. (My parents are driving me up the afternoon of the 15th, by the way.)
I can´t wait to see you and hear all about your adventures. We can go through reverse culture shock together!
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