One month in China, one month of rush, of restless, of homelessness and stress.
Finally I am back to Montreal, my new home.
New city, new home, new apartment. And new thoughts.
I start to wonder where is my real home, and realized that is no other home than here. China has become a strange place me, which I looked unsatisfying and critically, like a step child secretly exam its new mom, full of negative thoughts.
I wish to flee this country long, this country of love, care, pain and deep disappointment. It hurts to see your beloved behave badly, stupidly and harmfully. And this is what’s I feel for my home country. So many things went wrong, few things are going right, it is killing me with helpless concern.
Here, perhaps it is no better, but I hear nothing, know nothing. And I don’t even make the effort to know. It’s a place that opened its door for me as a warm and uncritical host, I stayed with appreciation but kept our distance. I enjoy the liberty air, I enjoy the new found freedom, I enjoy the lavish green and the quietness in the air. China is a pot of boiling water, here it is lukewarm.
I am pleased, calmed to be here. It’s a nice place for patient, to rest, to cure. I am a Chinese Patient.
posted on 2013-09-03 10:53 Sunshine 万里长空
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