on being homeless and taking a bus to Lisbon

Re-reading my last post I realised the ammount of anger release and even the tip of teenage angst there... Not my intention, I swear.

It just is difficult to live as a foreigner in your own country. That is who I am and I accept it now. I have different dress norms, I tolerate heat differently, I listen to different music, talk to my friends in a different language, dedicate myself to activities descredited by the community (like Philosophy or knitting) and am generally not comfortable with what is described as a regular conversation. The other day i shouted out "But it is my country!". Yes, I was born and raised here, but it doesn't matter. As someone told me, it would be the same as going to a place like a rural village in Afeghanistan and wear a bikini. It works exactly in the same way, even though this ougth to be my culture, my people.

Culture is what gives you a feeling of being "at home", familiarity and comfort. In some sense, I am homeless for now.

To get away from this potentially angsty discourse, I am moving on and taking a bus to Lisbon. that's it. When you feel bad just go a couple of days to a very big city. Somehow it helps.
I am meeting Vaida today at the airport. Very much looking to it right now.
Well, I 'll go get ready, the bus leaves in a couple of hours and i still ahev to fill up my MP3 player with new stuff.