I’m leaving for France this afternoon. Slight fear has kept me company since yesterday. Spent the day with friends and family; running from one Dutch city to another to enjoy their company and say my goodbyes. It scares me how everything is changing so quickly; it left me inert. Like a train coming into a station, it rests for some time but it knows not too get too cozy because it is leaving again in a couple of minutes. It’s tired but time is ticking to its next schedule. Before it has to leave again to another world, another reality.
I guess I am still rather scared, I have to admit, but I think it helps when I realize that I myself is the conductor who set the schedule. The one and only person who are able to write the time and destinations on the board. That no matter how hard it may seem at the time, I wouldn’t have it otherwise.
A funny thing happened last night when I was waiting for my train back to Rotterdam. It wasn’t coming for another 20minutes so I decided to be a loner and sit all the way at the end of the perron. It was before I took my seat that I noticed that the red plastic seats are lightly engraved; travelling quotes to accompany travelers as they wait for their trains. It quickly amused me, and before long I was reading through it with a smile. It was what I needed, and the unexpectedness of the encounter baffled me, leaving traces of joy in that cold, rainy and windy night in Holland.
I think I am ready to go.
--
The soul of a journey is liberty, liberty to think, feel and do as one pleases. –Unknown
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
How strange it is for one can feel at home when someone is around, regardless of the geographical location? When the country, the flat that you call home for 2 years suddenly become where you wish you are not in.
The train rides were pleasant, quiet but pleasant. I had hoped that silence would prepare one's self to be away from another. I hoped and hoped. As the train drove along the Rhine, through the mountains and little houses on the river banks, I had to stop myself from looking, for I know there is nothing but an empty chair next to me.
Everything reminds me of you. The walk back from the station, the short trip to do groceries, even a casual visit to the post office. I came home to an empty flat filled with memories, with things as the way we had left it before our trip. Everything seemed to be the same but I know it is not.
At that point, one's brain decided to rationalize. To pack the day with chores, anything to occupy one's brain as not to think. But can one really do that, can one truly exclude memories that kept on shoving itself back to one's mind? I think it's possible, yet dissapointed at the gap between how strong I would like to be and how strong I actually am.
Perhaps it was self-defense, that my brain started to lay down the facts. That we are not that far from each other, that it is only temporary and surely we will have the time of our lives in our respective countries. Rationalizing is what one is trained to do, yet for once emotions hold one captive for the time being.
I wanted to get some cheese and saw a pack of mini-mozarellas. I turned, but there was noone grinning, hinting his explicit love for those soft cheese balls.
I wrote, watched TV, read, ate, laughed, talked, smiled, unpacked, packed, cleaned. But just as I thought that I am OK, that the worst is over did it start again. The longing, the gripping feeling of homesickness.
Is it possible for one to be homesick not to one's home, but to someone that makes one feels at home? Is so, can one still call it homesickness? Or is it mere exagerations, simple tricks one's mind falls for when blinded by emotions? Of missing someone and wishing that one can wake up, stretch one's arm to realize that the other is still sleeping soundly even when it's time to be awake?
It feels like a disease. A disease evoked by certain details, certain images and memories. It took hold of one's heart, making it feel like some part is missing, a little part of void.
I will be stronger. I want to be stronger. Bit by bit, I'll try to bridge that gap and hopefully learn something from this. Because I believe that life goes on. On it goes, and oh how wonderful it is and will always be.
Du fehlst mir.
Danke.
The train rides were pleasant, quiet but pleasant. I had hoped that silence would prepare one's self to be away from another. I hoped and hoped. As the train drove along the Rhine, through the mountains and little houses on the river banks, I had to stop myself from looking, for I know there is nothing but an empty chair next to me.
Everything reminds me of you. The walk back from the station, the short trip to do groceries, even a casual visit to the post office. I came home to an empty flat filled with memories, with things as the way we had left it before our trip. Everything seemed to be the same but I know it is not.
At that point, one's brain decided to rationalize. To pack the day with chores, anything to occupy one's brain as not to think. But can one really do that, can one truly exclude memories that kept on shoving itself back to one's mind? I think it's possible, yet dissapointed at the gap between how strong I would like to be and how strong I actually am.
Perhaps it was self-defense, that my brain started to lay down the facts. That we are not that far from each other, that it is only temporary and surely we will have the time of our lives in our respective countries. Rationalizing is what one is trained to do, yet for once emotions hold one captive for the time being.
I wanted to get some cheese and saw a pack of mini-mozarellas. I turned, but there was noone grinning, hinting his explicit love for those soft cheese balls.
I wrote, watched TV, read, ate, laughed, talked, smiled, unpacked, packed, cleaned. But just as I thought that I am OK, that the worst is over did it start again. The longing, the gripping feeling of homesickness.
Is it possible for one to be homesick not to one's home, but to someone that makes one feels at home? Is so, can one still call it homesickness? Or is it mere exagerations, simple tricks one's mind falls for when blinded by emotions? Of missing someone and wishing that one can wake up, stretch one's arm to realize that the other is still sleeping soundly even when it's time to be awake?
It feels like a disease. A disease evoked by certain details, certain images and memories. It took hold of one's heart, making it feel like some part is missing, a little part of void.
I will be stronger. I want to be stronger. Bit by bit, I'll try to bridge that gap and hopefully learn something from this. Because I believe that life goes on. On it goes, and oh how wonderful it is and will always be.
Du fehlst mir.
Danke.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
As I watch you in the other room,
playing with your kitten
patronizing it
Böse Katze, you said playfully.
I sit here and type
as I try to preserve that in my memory
with the idea of leaving looming in mind
I began to dread each passing hour
for it reminded me of the trainride back
the trainride away
to a room filled with memories.
playing with your kitten
patronizing it
Böse Katze, you said playfully.
I sit here and type
as I try to preserve that in my memory
with the idea of leaving looming in mind
I began to dread each passing hour
for it reminded me of the trainride back
the trainride away
to a room filled with memories.
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