Sunday, June 20, 2010

Written in a Heathrow Check-In Queue

I don't particularly want to go home today.

It's weird, in a way, because I love Sydney. I adore it, I truly do. But I think it might be part of the problem really. I get too comfortable. It breeds complacency, and apathy, and I get stuck in one gear where I just am, and things just are...and that's fine, but it isn't, not really. Shuffling in a queue doesn't particularly lend itself to eloquence, forgive me.

The thing is though that being overseas, being in Europe, makes me feel like a different person. I feel more confident, more certain of myself, stronger, keener, more daring and fun and adventurous. I like the person I am when I travel, and how my dreams seem possible. Not even that, they just seem so much more real and I feel this burning desire to work towards them, endlessly. None of the complacency and wishful thinking, only action and passion. It's probably just that being away from home already makes it feel like something is in motion, like progress is being made, and that leads to this proactive sense of motivation and determination. I worry that if I were to actually live overseas, I will just fall into the same comfortable apathy.. It won't be travel anymore and it will lose the magic, and I'll just have to pack up and find it again somewhere else.I don't know. I think I may have been destined to be a gypsy.

I know in the past I've said I want to move to London, but I don't think the city is right for me. I don't think I have the right mentality for it. If I'm going to forsake the sunshine and the city I love for the continent I feel I belong on, it has to be the right fit otherwise I'll just get depressed. There's only two places I've been where I thought "I can live here" (not "I want to live here" of which there is a greater selection: London, Paris, Lucerne, any part of Tuscany) and that's Dublin and (most recently) Cardiff. They just feel right, somehow. It clicks. But like I said before, I don't know how long it would last.

Of course I have no intention of packing up and moving right now, despite my reluctance to return home. I certainly have no thoughts of 'Right, I'm going to spend the rest of my life there.' I don't think I'm capable of that though in itself, but that is a blog for another time. Besides I barely survived moving to a place I didn't know at all the first time, I'm certainly never doing that to myself again. No, I'd have to ease myself into it. A stretch of time with a friend, and if I think I can hack it, then I can commit to something longer - a PhD length stay for example.

In the end though, I think I will always come home. And Sydney is home. Regardless of how little time I think I want to spend there, or how often I'm thinking of being somewhere else. It's beautiful, and not as big as it thinks it is (or anyone else does for that matter), but it is where I found my peace, that complacency and apathy I bemoan so much - that has it's time and it's place after all, and it's priceless.

I just...I don't know. I get so restless, so dissatisfied with myself. I want to be able to look back on my life one day and say, yes, I've done some amazing things, I've made it count. Perhaps not in conventional ways, but on my own terms - I've lived up to my own expectations. It just feels like something I have to do. I owe it to myself to not only take the opportunities that come my way, but to make my own.

I want things to be amazing. I want to be amazing. Maybe that's too much to ask, but I think I can at least try.

We can stay like this forever
And we'll never miss a party
Cause we'll keep them going constantly
And we'll never have to listen
To anyone about anything
Cause it's all been done and it's all been said
We're the coolest kids and we take what we can get

This offer stands forever

Music: Announcements and chatter
Mood: Shuffle shuffle *wait* shuffle shuffle *wait* bored now

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