Where do I belong?




I walked on this newish bridge the other day and felt like a stranger in my own city. Dublin, OH. lol. I felt self conscious, like people were watching me. Am I swaying my hands to much? Is my back straight? Yeah it’s hot out and I’m wearing jeans so what. I looked at everybody and nobody looked at me back yet they were thinking, who is this dude? Does he belong here?

In Paris, with my fat backpack, with the only outfit I brought, I felt confident, like I owned the town. Yeah, I’m not from here, and I can speak your language. I hop your metro and eat your food. I don’t belong here, yet I’m here anyways. I felt powerful.

Recovering from the travel – if that’s a thing – wasn’t expecting it.


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