My friend is going to a Pakistani wedding today.
I don’t even know any more.
Time for a ramble:
Occasionally I am overwhelmed by the feeling that I need to return ‘home’ RIGHT NOW, and I guess you could call this homesickness, except for the fact that it isn’t so much a desire to return to a specific place, as a yearning for a certain state of mind. When I think of home I don’t think of the city or even the country of my birth, its a certain seat by the window when the light is just right, a book I thought I had lost, the beach on a clear autumn day with the dog running across damp sand. Sometimes I get lucky and find little pockets of home in the corners of big cities, but more often than not home is hiding in the trees, or whispering from the rush of the waves.
And much as I love Hong Kong, I could never stay in the choked up city, where everything is built around a tourist’s idea of what it should be, with an expensive-looking designer label. So I guess I will keep moving, keep looking. I will go until I find somewhere that gives me a reason to stay.
Home for me is a good book, a cup of tea, some biscuits and good company. What about you?
Shit for someone.
I don’t even….what?