Lost in translation…

“Why did you come here?” Is the first question and I found the answer, but I wish I didn’t. It opened up doors leading to other questions about myself.

I like being lost. Putting myself in a vulnerable position, forcing myself to trust others and to open up my mind to all possibilities. Without shame I accepted being lost and not speaking the language. I accepted being different and lived while being different.

So much happened, leaving question marks for me to ponder. Soul searching and exploration. I learnt about what I want. What I don’t want. What I desire and what others desire. Mostly, I learnt about what I can do and cannot do.

There is something I want… and I know I can get it. But there’s something else I want, preventing me from this. It all comes back to the choices I make. I make extreme ones, so I can understand how I function like that, then settling back to the middle.

Met alot of travellers going around Europe. When asked about anything exciting that happened. They couldn’t say. They rush into a city for 3 days, watch, observe the building and the people and leave. Forming an impression of the people in their mind based on that. Blocking their heart from others because you won’t see them again the next day…

So much… So much. I don’t know if my brain can digest everything. Maybe the movie Lost in translation can explain part of what I felt.

NB: The political situation is better than I thought. No violent outbreaks or gang duels. Just big fat ass mob rallied in front of the parliament and town halls of different county making noises for a whole week, while making decisions for themselves that the election is declared nullified etc. etc.

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