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anada466

eZine's profile picture
Published in 
Anada
 · 2 years ago

 

, ____, ( 10/11/01 anada466 ,
/ \ ,_____ (--|_\_,,_, _ _| _ __________ ,-.______ _,---._ __ _/ \
/ \+------ _| ) | |(_|(_|(_|_ .net------/ )----.-' `./-/ \
/ / ( |__, ( ( ,' `/ /|
\ / \ `-" \'\ / |
\ / "Neither Here Nor There" `. , \ \ / |
Y-------- ----------/`. ,'-`----Y |
/ by Existanz ( ; mEoW!@/| '
i________________________________________________| ,-. ,-'_______/ | /
| | | ( * | /
|____________________ Anada is cat-friendly! __) |__\ `.___________|/
`--' `--'

Sitting in my Aussie home, on another odd weekend of another odd
week, I can feel a yearning for my other home.

America. Not because its some place that's been attacked, or that
has been torn to be crippled at the knees. What a load of shit, everyone
knows America should pull its thumb out of its arse and stop saying it's in
a financial crisis... there's no such thing for America. Just exploit
another poor country and get the money back by making them starve.

No, I crave for my home because, it is my home.

My friends at school wonder what the hell I see in it, why I'd be
drawn to it in any way. Why I would want to be a part of such a load of
barbaric hypocritical arrogant arseholes. Often I wonder the same of
myself, but in so doing, do I deny my very existence, because in part, I am
one of those people.

First, they say Australia is a safer place. Well, what a load of
shit. I was walking home three nights ago and I was followed, and this is
not the first time either! I can't even walk through my little suburb
without feeling violated... 7 nights ago, I saw some anonymous man walking
down the street with a rifle - a country who has the 'no guns' policy, or
whatever the fuck they call it, lets an old man walk down the street
clutching his rifle like it were his only toy left in the world. He was not
a psychopath or anything, just a man going for a walk with his rifle... I
hope.

Here I am supposed to feel more comfortable about who I am, about the
fact that I am different, be able to come to terms with everything... but
here, I am neither Australian nor American. I've been snatched away from
both! I don't belong in my suburban home, with its wooden fence and its two
little dogs, and I don't belong back in my America. I'm not permitted to
belong in either place.

I'm not like the average American, I don't have god to turn to... I'm
not like the average Australian, I don't want to stay here... I don't fit.
I hate not being able to fit.

It was unfair of my family to move me when I was too small to
understand why they were making me go away and maybe I hate them for that...

I admit my life has not been that hard as most of those around me; my
parents are still together, still loving each other, my brothers and sister
are extremely successful, they know where they're going with their life. I
hate the fact that I'm separated from them, that I can't reach them on the
same level as they can reach each other, but I deal with it. I mean, I have
got a good education, I've got a house, I've got dogs to keep me company,
I've got my piano which shares my misery, I've got everything anyone should
want, yet I'm pissed off and not happy.

I haven't been happy since I realised I was never going to be
accepted again.

/\___/\ ____________________________________________________________ /\___/\
\ -.- / \ -.- /
`-.^.-' (c) 2001 Anada e'zine by Existanz `-.^.-'
/"\ ________________________________________________________________ /"\

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