A year on...

It's been a year already, well way past actually. This place has changed, I have changed too but not as dramatically. I am back home in the mother-country. I live with my parents as I am an unemployed academic, as I finished the beast and moved up in the world. I am no longer a struggling student, I'm officially an adult without a job, i.e. freelance art historian. What a joke! Well, I am back here in the navel of navelness. Enjoying my friends again and creating dramas at every street corner. Feeling more whole for some strange reason, yet a bit itchy. I am itching to leave this place, this town, yet roots are starting to take shape. Or have they just reattached themselves to the earth where they once grew?
For the first four-five months this place, my birthplace even, didn't feel like home. My thoughts were still in English, some parts still are, my friends felt distant and untrue, fake in some way, my living conditions (a 2-by-1 meter room at the parents') felt claustrophobic and every ounce of me felt like running away at any opportunity. I don't feel as much like that anymore, I am starting to feel at home. Starting to feel like I could make it here, maybe. I wouldn't mind having my friends from all around the world here with me though. It's lonesome without a job in your thirties in a country full of 'cold' people, in a city without smiles. However, I try to spread the joy that I feel, with a little smile here and there. Most of all I miss my exhusband, would have been great to share all of this silliness that is my life here with him. 

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