We Lost Ourselves

Though it may not be the title of the song that I've been playing non-stop since last night, We Lost Ourselves is part of the lyrics of Christina Aguilera's new song, You Lost Me.

Before I continue - I just want to make a disclaimer: I'm not a MASSIVE Christina Aguilera fan, so I'm not sure how she's been mentioned twice in my blog given the limited number of posts that I've made. I'm just going to site coincidence for now and move on...

So my month-long winter break is closing to an end. And it's been, like I just told my very good Indian-Jewish-Thai friend, an interesting break, a very interesting break.

It's made me realize so many things, things that I already suspected but just wanted to deny because they opposed what I wanted and needed to believe. First of all, I think I definitely romanticized my hometown - and while many of the things I thought about while I was away are true and valid, there are so many aspects of my hometown that I don't appreciate.

What's been exceptionally fascinating is my realization of how much I romanticized my hometown - and while many of the things that I thought about while I was away are in truth characteristic of my hometown - they were presented in the best possible light in my imagination. Devoid of any of the negative aspects, or rather aspects that I find and perceive to be negative, my hometown looked like a dreamland from my my school, in a land, far far away.

I remember landing, and walking into the airport. Nothing ever had felt so familiar. I mean, I suppose it was a good feeling, the fact that things didn't feel different - but to be honest it was a tad disappointing. I was expecting something different, I guess, and all the stories about my friends that came back before I did.

I came home, and it was so nice to just walk around my apartment, see the many bedrooms, the newly remodeled upstairs living and dining room. as well as my new bedroom. It was cute. I had a very nice traditional breakfast that is characteristic of my nation. And then we took a road which literally translates in Turkish as coast-road, or shore-road, I mean, they're synonymous terms anyway, right?

I remember looking at the railing at the side of the road that I assume is there to prevent the cars from running into the sea, and I remember looking at the top of those railings, and just thinking - wow, It's so pretyy (I mean, it's pretty ornate, I mean, not pretty, but more ornate than your averge railing) and it just felt so magical and wonderful.

I felt like I came back to my hometown with a new set of eyes - everything just felt so different - for about 4 hours (or should I say 1 or 3 days to help paint a less depressing picture) but then I quickly got habituated.

And that I suppose is the the ting that makes people never really appreciate what you've got. You just get habituated to seeing the same thing over and over again. Like a beautiful painting or a spectacular apartment with a view of central park, seeing the same thing daily makes you appreciate it less, and that's how my hometown quickly became boring.

But there's something else I want to discuss.

I just feel this very apathetic type of sorrow and sadness. It's subtle enough to not cause significant disturbances in my life, but it's potent enough for me to feel upset.

I want to discuss that in my next blog - I have a theory about my potential sadness...