diary of this morning

Mornings in the rainy season can get really chilly in Diebougou. Waking up from a dream that everything what I wanted was there makes me feel a bit lonely once back to the reality. 

Maybe it's that the fact I'm too me now. I've been me since long time and am ok with not being able to really share me, not having a person who'd be able to completely understand me, not being able to affirm my rightness by finding many who think exact the same as myself. But now it's getting a bit extreme, maybe. Maybe I should really go back to ny at the end. To my place of internationalism. The place everyone is sick and crazy, and free. I don't want anyone categorizing me or telling the way should be regarding to whatever I seem belonging to. I want them to realize that I do not belong anywhere, I don't have to. I'm sick of hearing those categorizations regarding to the skin colors from both sides. It does feel safe maybe, to group them and say "see? That's why we are different. I don't need to understand you, I don't need to like you, because we ain't the same." don't they realize that there is no one who really is the same? I don't interfere with people, I don't care how ordinary or extraordinary you are so don't bother asking me whatever, to make sure that it's me who is the one insane, so you are safe.
I speak 4 languages. Because 3 are one of the major languages of the colonizations, are pretty useful in today's world. So I've experienced being in the cultures where I definitely don't seem belonging to, and have experienced being attached more to them than to the ones which seem my own. It's not just the feeling of liking them but more like finding my own self in them, my definite identities which seemed new, but the most true to me. But not to say that I belong there. I just feel the same sort of attachment for those places that are supposed to be my origin and for those not. The same can be said to every individual being I encounter in my life. Yes, I am happy to find out that someone I meet is from Colombia, but it isn't because I consider the nationality Colombian as something special, it's because she'd lived in the place where I love, and we have the loved place in common, and we share the language. Languages are like music instruments. You can still talk about the music without playing, but if both of you can play, you play, and feel something beyond the former communication, that feeling is like the culture in its language itself. 
Some would understand what I'm writing and others wouldn't. And that's absolutely okay. I feel like I keep saying the same thing for years. The feeling of "somewhat out of place" has grown to be an absolute truth in me. And I liked living in New York because many, in some way, belonged to one place of "not belonging anywhere." If you know already you don't belong anywhere, you'd never feel out of place because whatever the place doesn't have to exist since beginning.  
私の書いていることを理解する人もしない人もいるだろう。それで良い。同じことをもうずっと言い続けているような気がする。居心地の悪さ、は自身の中で真実に変わった。ニューヨークで暮らすのが好きだったその理由は、たくさんの人がある意味で同じところに属していた: 何処にも属さないというところに。もしすでにそこはだれの場所でもないのだと知っていれば、居心地の悪さなど感じない。そこは別にどんな場所であっても良いのだから。