Thursday, 28 June 2007

Citizen of the World

I am a foreigner in the city I call home.

This London is lonely to me. This London is empty.
Empty of all the things that formed the fabric of my life, when it deserved being called home.

No more friends, no more work.

I suppose it is the price one has to pay to become a citizen of the world.
Uprooted. At home everywhere and yet a passenger only.

In the part of the city covered with Burka-women and skinhead men, I am just another Londoner, in my Viennese dress and my Brazilian shoes.


Denny said...

hola k..!!! te oyes algo triste... if you want... call me friend... pero jamas ñoñis...

Pily! said...

i understand you... to feel indiferent about a place... but home is where you are... you are your home... you can make any place as warm as you want...
Don't be sad... this feeling will not last forever


special K said...

Gracias Chicas...No se preocupen, though.
Estoy bien, solo un poco sorprendida de como ha cambiado mi percepcion de la ciudad y el lugar que ocupo en ella.
My home is wherever Dr. O and I are together. Seriuosly.
Solo que mis amigos andan todos desperdigados por el el precio por la ciudadania del mundo!

Anonymous said...

Tu blog me recordó a cierto pasaje de un libro donde hay una canción de "The passenger's"

Totalmente tiene que ver con lo que expresas...