The travellers

It seems this summer is treating me with a whiff of autumn and deep inside I love people’s repetitive complaints, I’m loving it sincerely. Autumn is more evident back home. The trees are confused; they shake off leaves with a kind of indecisiveness indicating a spoon full of indifference. And this is it. Nothing really matters.


I took a walk around my neighbourhood and became melancholic and slightly defamiliarised as well. After all these years home has become only a temporary place to stay. Despite knowing that I’ll always be welcome, I just cannot welcome myself any longer and I don’t know why. However, this remains the only place where I can truly sleep.

Of course a great number of things change at home. My dogs are no longer there. A lot more changes will await me in the future, I feel it in my stomach. I need to work on my fear of the obscure and the unknown. For the sake of growth, I will always choose to walk away anyway. It’s time to get used to it.


I walked around my former primary school, which is only about 200m away from my home and I remember my mother used to drive me those 200m, sometimes I would even use the bike. It never occurred to me that I could walk it. My former secondary school is about 3KM away. Many things never dawned on me when I was a child; everything appeared to be impossible back then.


Looking at old pictures from the past I found the woman, who, thirty years ago, had hooked my dad up with my mum. I haven’t seen that woman in twenty years and I’ve never thought of her so intensively. I have mixed feelings about her.


My sister and I used to be ugly fat babies. According to my mum the Chinese say that this is a good sign, because ugly babies become beautiful adults. I don’t know how true this is. Funnily enough the two of us grew up in a world where people believe we’re half Chinese.


My sister and I are very different from each other, unlike me; she likes to be safe, no matter what, whereas I like to fall on my face.

I think I’ve been cautious enough in my life.  At the same time I’ve learnt to reason. You remember when Otto Gross tried to convince Jung that one should never repress anything? I have finally understood the concept and I do have to repress my feelings, because they are wrong and would cause a downfall from which I would never recover.


I think in this case I’d rather regret than do it.


I cannot express how much I care, so much that I no longer care at all. I’m fatigued. And it’s time to let go again.







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