I’ve never been inclined to move back to my native home; as a product of the cultural identity crisis, cities with more globalised economies and populations make me more at ease. Not uncommonly I visit all the time, but such trips have rarely been something I planned.
From time to time, especially recently, I feel that I need to get away from my world for even 5 seconds. The consistent bubble of egocentric, selfish human behaviour within my current friendships and potential relationships is burning my soul.
And so the country that I know is wonderful, beautiful in fact; spring when it should be, snowing when it should. Although my subjective ability to be comfortable even a meter outside the house I live in is still debatable. But regardless, there is an easy love that soaks through the family, despite the former distance and you receive it unplanned, requited, just yours to glimmer in. Add to that, the fact that what I actually feel is my “home” currently, is really not my home or my country; so over the wall of corruption, politics and the like, you can’t help but appreciate your culture and language, because at the end of the day you know despite the news and the stories it’s yours.
So it’s funny, even though I have less to fault about my second home, and I genuinely feel real comfortable here, I wouldn’t take a bullet for it.
A friend of a friend once said he’d take a bullet for his friend, I’d take a bullet for that person too. But my love for him doesn’t extend due to simple infatuation, or a brotherly bond, but rather a knowing that he is my home; so why wouldn’t I feel the same for a place that makes me so comfortable just being. What does he have for me that this palce doesn’t?