Ugh, that heavy feeling again. What is it?
Homesickness? Well, yes. Sort of. But homesickness is a constant now that never goes away - not even when I am home, because my home is neither here nor there. It is something never found again.
Regret? Maybe that is not the right word. Maybe frustration that I could not have chosen more than one way. Sadness for the doors I have closed along the way to be able to go through this one.
Is this normal? Is it part and parcel to being "foreign"? A constant state of re-examination of what-ifs? Or is this what any mildy neurotic thirty something feels that has not had children yet to take away that curse of looking at ones wrinkles in the mirror too much or the sickness of dwelling on paths not taken, (wrong?) turns, U-turns...
God, I sound so unhappy. It is not like that. How lucky to have had a life with so many brilliant choices. I chose this one, which was the greatest. So what now? Forget the past? But I am too afraid to lose my memories, or that the only universe that exists is this one -- and not the one with the open Arizona roads and a cabin in Strawberry, and wood-paned walls, and vintage blues.
It is fading.
And I do not remember a time when I did not think in Spanish or have Luis at my side.
But it is scary to think of the essence of me dissovling into this morphed version of myself that I am observing as if from the outside. This person that feels almost Spanish on the inside, but will never be Spanish to anyone else.
American as ever here, far from American there.
Ugh. Who am I? How did I get here?
"Naci en Alamo"
No tengo lugar
No tengo paisaje
Yo menos tengo patria
Con mis dedos hago fuego
Con mi corazon te canto
Las cuerdas de mi corazon lloran
Naci en Alamo
Naci en Alamo
No tengo lugar
No tengo paisaje
Yo menos tengo patria
-written by Dionisis Tsaknis
"I was born in Alamo"
I have no place
I have no countryside
And even less a homeland
With my fingers I make fire
With my heart I sing to you
The chords of my heart cry
I was born in Alamo
I have no place
I have no countryside
And even less a homeland
Mackin Ink put it so well. "oh, i must be homesick. which is only a problem when you realize you're already at home".
-Bluestreak
Arizona Highway from Flickr by Embot
Original Video Clip Vengo with Remedios Silva Pisa
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8 comments:
oh, i'm with you...
You are so GD funny. I love that someone is muy chistosa en mi familia.
PS...and I love your eclectic choices in movies. You know my favorite movie on your list :)..."Jackie Treehorn treats objects like women."
I feel right at home here, and I'm thankful for it. Hope someday the same happens for you. :)
This entry made me sad. I miss you so much.
Wow, I totally get it. My parents sold my home a few years ago, but of course, I stopped living in it 23 years ago. And, even when I lived there as a kid, I couldn't wait to leave. I've split my life out by decades: 20 years in the midwest, 10 years in the west, and now 10 years in Florida, which kind of deserves it's own region.
And where is home? My grandma is dead, my family dispersed to the winds, and my parents' new Florida house is not home.
You can't go home again. That's a truth that any English major knows.
But, you can make home, inside of you, with the person/people you love.
thanks, lovebites. I had a similar experience when my parents sold their home. I was pissed, even though I was pulling my hair out to get out of there when I was living there. But it´s like they sold my memories.
I know I can´t go home again, cause home is in the past.
It's ironic that the song you quote is by a Greek singer/songwriter.
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