I miss you like an immigrant misses his home country. Always longing for the taste of his own food, the step on his own soil and the sound of his own music. All is in order, his new life is on track because he made it so, but there is a fracture in his soul that he can’t mend by keeping busy. The more he does, the more his heart fills with joys, the more he laughs and smiles -the more he sees the contrast with his emptiness. I am this immigrant, whose last thought is always on the smells that he grew up with and the familiar sights that should grace his view. I miss you immigrantly; you are my home country.
visuals via weheartit, literals by me.
Dit schreef ik in 2011 of 2012 - het onderwerp natuurlijk niet mijn land van herkomst, maar mijn lief die ik zo erg miste dat ik me voorstelde dat het vergelijkbaar was met het missen van je vaderland.
Ik had het mis. - je cultuur, je wortels, de vorming van je bestaan tegen de achtergrond van het land waar je vandaan komt, is onherroepelijk.