Sunday, January 13, 2008

to stay or to go home

ON the same crossroads again... Don't read further if you're bored of it. I'm writing to help myself anyway.

All my friends think going home is the easy way out. Londoners (the good ones) must be the highest form of living, right, since they are surviving in this expensive, crowded city, constantly on their feet, interacting with others, coming up with ideas, making points, making the most of work and the most of their precious free time. The highest form of civilization is here, a hub of high benchmarks, reference points so much so that you have to be good to feel happy, accomplished. The most you can make out of your time and brain in this world.

So if I go home it means I'm chickening out just because I'm too scared of the competition, too lazy? I pretend I don't want to work in the City because I couldn't even if I wanted to? It means once again I failed to settle, grow roots, build and keep deep relationships?

Maybe so. There's another school of thought, though, saying how staying away from home may be cowardly, too, at least for citizens of the third world:

"He knew what his father thought: that immigration, so often presented as a heroic act, could just easily be the opposite; that it was cowardice that led many to America; fear marked the journey, not bravery; a cockroachy desire to scuttle to where you never saw poverty, not really, never had to suffer a tug to your conscience; where you never heard the demands of servants, beggars, bankrupt relatives, and where your generosity would never be openly claimed; where by merely looking after your own wife-child-dog-yard you could feel virtuous. Experience the relief of being an unknown transplant to the locals and hide the perspective granted by journey. Ohio was the first place he loved, for there he had at last been able to acquire a poise-" The Inheritance of Loss, page 299.

I really don't want to float for much longer, stand where I could do anything, without doing anything. I want to build something, I want to write. There.

Or a little more while... here. I still don't know. I'm human after all, I'm weak and self absorbed!

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