At one o'clock yesterday morning, I sat bolt upright in bed, feeling completely satiated of sleep after only three hours, bewildered about my location. Indeed, it took several moments for me to gather my global whereabouts. Even when I arrived at the conclusion, "I am in my bedroom in Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA," I did not feel reassured to find myself at home. I did not feel at home.
I tossed and turned; I got up and warmed a pita to eat with leftover Baba Ganoush. I read poetry that all seemed flippant and fleeting. I wondered at the question, "If you don't know who you are, how will you know where you're going?" and my instantaneous answer, while still in Palestine, "I am Minnesotan." Since returning to Minnesota, however, I haven't felt at home, nor the strong desire to make this my home which has driven my life until this point. I spend my unoccupied time daydreaming about future trips. I spend my should-be occupied time doing the same.
Chile, Hawaii, British Colombia, Mexico City. These all call my name. The house in Minneapolis that I've wanted for so long seems to have fallen silent.
I feel like that little kid I saw lost at the airport the day I arrived home - here. Dumbfounded at the sudden absence of everything and everyone familiar, spinning in circles hoping to catch some hint as to my future direction, my next move and yet unable to move my feet or cry out for help.
Like that little boy, my eyes will soon be bloodshot red if I keep up these no-sleep sleep habits. To a full night's sleep!
I tossed and turned; I got up and warmed a pita to eat with leftover Baba Ganoush. I read poetry that all seemed flippant and fleeting. I wondered at the question, "If you don't know who you are, how will you know where you're going?" and my instantaneous answer, while still in Palestine, "I am Minnesotan." Since returning to Minnesota, however, I haven't felt at home, nor the strong desire to make this my home which has driven my life until this point. I spend my unoccupied time daydreaming about future trips. I spend my should-be occupied time doing the same.
Chile, Hawaii, British Colombia, Mexico City. These all call my name. The house in Minneapolis that I've wanted for so long seems to have fallen silent.
I feel like that little kid I saw lost at the airport the day I arrived home - here. Dumbfounded at the sudden absence of everything and everyone familiar, spinning in circles hoping to catch some hint as to my future direction, my next move and yet unable to move my feet or cry out for help.
Like that little boy, my eyes will soon be bloodshot red if I keep up these no-sleep sleep habits. To a full night's sleep!
What about Nashville?
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