I've been living in the same Versailles attic for over two years and a half and it still doesn't feel like home most of the time.
Things that make it feel like home:
- Guys in the Japanese restaurant downstairs know my name
- The guys at the kebab know what I want as soon as I walk in
- Baristas at Starbucks smile at me as a long term costumer and ask me if a va
Then again, all that stuff is about my surroundings. When I climb the five flights of stairs and lock myself in what was supposed to be my place, I feel strangely estranged. Truth is this place has felt like home a couple of times. For example:
- Having my ex-fiance over and cooking dinner for her with candles and stuff
- Having friends over and talking about Nine Inch Nails until 3AM
Then again, I've felt like I really was at home in the strangest places these last years, and it's almost always been while travelling or while being drunk (or both). Quick list of times I've felt "at home" the last three years:
- Crashing at a friend's house in Paris after a night of beers and finding out that we both loved Kyuss
- Spending a couple of nights at my agent's house back in Almera and watching cheap softcore with his girlfriend on the couch
- Spending a weekend in San Sebastian and staying in my friend's mother house which was tastefully decorated in black and white
So, I've got no roots so to speak. Actually I have, but they seem to be all over the place and they are not strong enough to support me. I actually believe that being unattached is a good thing. Give me any place with wi-fi, something resembling a bed and a Starbucks nearby and I can make myself comfortable. If I lost my job or got a better one and had to move to some distant place, I would do so. Easy. Pack my things, pack my laptop and start somewhere new.
That's a good thing, right?
Right.
Freedom is like a high-maintenance girlfriend. If I want to feel free I've got to ditch so many things... So many feelings... Maybe that's the reason I cover myself up with so much cheap sarcasm, I can't stand to act as if something mattered to me.
My ex-fiance suggested once she was going to get me a cat (she was already my ex when she suggested this). I asked her to remember how I had treated her and to think if I was really fit to have something to look after.
"Touch," she said.
Over and out, my brain is fried and thinking hurts right now.
Ta-da.