Home ???

What a funny way to live.

I've been in Indonesia for almost 2 weeks and I feel the same feelings as last August right before I went back to US.

I wouldn't call that place home just my birth place I guess…I don't really belong anywhere to be quite honest.

No home.

But none of us really have a quote on quote home if you really think deep about it. Is a home where we were born? Where we were raised? Is it a place? A house? A person? More than one person? Is it a pet? A family? A feeling? A desire? An emotion? I'm still trying to grasp this concept of home but quite honestly it sounds so fucking far off that it barely seems to even exist.

Does it have to be missed? Or is it your goal? An unattainable fairytale vision?

And is this concept of home necessarily the place where you belong or should remain?

But why am I even thinking about mt settlement when I just came out of the womb 20 years ago?

I am still a free little baby seeing the quote on quote real world and truly discovering who I am as an individual.

But so far I'm fucked up.

To be honest it's not easy finding yourself when you are so so deeply in love.

Myself is now someone that must coexist with this man. So it is even myself? I feel lost without him and I feel even more lost with him. I'm so caught up in this string of hearts that I'm unintentionally strangling myself. But its basically intentional since I am completely aware of this entanglement and refuse to unwind. But in the end I just want to cut the ties all at once.

I am completely thinking and believing things that has never crossed my mind 2 years ago. The thought of my nonexistent home has completely kept me up at night. My mind is so unsteady. I've acquired a constant mental fog and no matter how hard I try to read or pray or focus on my intentions for Allah…I completely trip. And right as I was going to jump into the bridge I fall on my laces and I can't even make it to the bridge anymore.

My back is straining.
My jaw is tensing until I feel a dull pain.

My heart feels like it can explode any minute. In the best way possible. And at the same time, in the worst way possible.

I don't know how to let go of this lingering tension.

I try to calm myself. But after the moment of clarity the tension builds back up more intense. The intensity increasing by increments of the thousands every time I attempt to suppress my mind.

I can't keep pushing these feelings. I'm swaying in a swing that is about to collapse. My strength hasn't been fully tested merely because my weaknesses are too heavy to even lift a centimeter off.

Anyways enough of my amateur cry out poetry.

As I was saying, I feel like I'm in the same place as last August when I left Thailand and went back to US. And I went back simply because I couldn't handle relying on this man anymore. He was struggling everyday to help feed me and get me a hostel bed Thailand. I think it lasted 2.5 weeks alone but fully depending on this man when he was in Malaysia. And after 3 days of not eating I decided to climb into my biological father's babycrib and fly home with his aid and our regrets. His regret for having me born and my regret that I didn't use that opportunity back in my birth place to the best of my ability. My stupid little fucked up, diminishing, low level abilities. Sorry Dad. It definitely saddens me too that I didn't conform to millennium society when I had the PERFECT chance right in front of my can of beer and multiple lines of cocaine. Wait what? Oh yeah did I mention regrets?

And yet again Thailand visa run part 2 but this time in lovely Indonesia. Eating twice a day already feels glutinous compared to how me and this man lived in Malaysia though...believe it or not...the day I left this man to do my little visa run we just pulled a double all nighter at the cyber cafe. Funny right? And I still had to ask my cousin for the ticket! And then this man proceeds to pull multiple all nighters completely homeless while booking me a room here in Indonesia. Yeah talk about struggle.

I don't know why everyday has to be a waiting game. I simply cannot live like this. Just wait for this man to finish a job and send me money to eat and get a room. It doesn't feel right at all. And sometimes he doesn't even have a room and of course he never eats enough. How is this right at all? I am fully capable of working in US but he thinks I will literally burn in hell if I go back there. Whether he is right or not is besides the point. So what? I just have to sit around while he works too hard to barely feed the both of us. I love traditional lifestyles and all that but I gotta wake up man....this isn't 1500s and I'm not living in a village. I don't know what 20 year old girl in her right mind is travelling abroad living this type of life when she has a completely open sesame opportunity in her birth place the Super Capitalist Mega 1st World Country. The simple answer is that I'm fucking crazy.
Crazy mentally and maybe crazy in love. I don't really know what it is but it's been quite an experience. It's kind of hilariously outrageous and at the same time extremely sad.

I don't know.

My heart is aching.

My chest is in pain.

I can't stop crying.

I can't write anymore.

This is all I have to say for now.

Probably a handful to understand.

Now that I read this over again I can't help but laugh at how ridiculous my life is right now.

Can't take it so seriously right? I guess that's partly what keeps me going. But also partly what keeps me not giving a shit anymore. So there it is.