“And certain stars
Are sad and bruised like
Someone’s cheating heart.”
– Safer on the Outside, American Hi-Fi
I have mixed feelings about setting up a new life here.
I am usually always up for a challenge; there is nothing I love more than immersing myself in new surroundings, and making a home in foreign land. But this place feels different — there are so many things about life here that I treasure, yet at the same time, there is also an unsettling feeling of discontent simmering just underneath the surface, and I can’t quite pinpoint its source… I wonder if it might have something to do with the psychological trauma of living in this stifling house, or perhaps it is something else.
I suspect some of these feelings might be due to the anxiety of moving to a new house. But no — I’d actually dreamed of the day I move out of this accursed place practically since Week 3 of living here, so this must not be it. Then what could it be?
Whatever it is, I find myself uninspired to write; impatient to embark on the many trips I have planned in these coming months; pining for home as I never have before. I am here, but I feel as if there is somewhere else I should be — and I don’t quite know if this is another place or another time. I know what needs to be done, and where I need to go, but I feel like I’m swimming through thick mud to get to the other side. Time feels slow, but the year has also caught me by surprise; suddenly, August is nearing its end.
I have yet to solve the mystery of my discontent. But maybe packing tonight will bring things into perspective…