We travel all over the world to get foreign lands, but sometimes after returning home, we find out that home may be the real foreign land. After three weeks to be back in America, Personally i think like I am a stranger in a strange land. America has changed. There’s different things about it these times.
I’ve been home before. I spent the summertime of 2010 in NEW YORK, and I circle home once in awhile to go to my parents. I’m over the culture shock.
When I told people in Asia I was heading home, they asked me easily was nervous or afraid about to be able to adjust. “No, I’ve been home before,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”
But I came home and realized that while I didn’t have any “culture shock,” something was different. I had changed. America appeared to have changed too. The pulse of the united states was different.
There’s more crap on TV. The united states seems more superficial. (How come everything a genuine Housewives of… show?)
Food portions appear to be even bigger than before.
Kids seem a lot more cruel nowadays. People don’t seem as polite or nice to one another anymore.
The country is a lot more divided. Every issue is blown out proportion and is a test for your politics: right, left, Tea Party, etc.
In general, if you ask me, it just feels different here now.
On the other hand, maybe America was always such as this, and I simply never noticed before. Maybe I usually spent so enough time on trips home seeing new places and catching up with friends that I never stopped and took stock of the house I took for granted.
Or possibly what I finally noticed is that I’ve changed. They state travel changes you — but I’ve never noticed it. Since you’re with yourself everyday, you hardly ever really see changes in your personality. They just become part of you and look like second nature. It’s nothing like when you are on a diet or take drastic action. Changes on the highway are slow and happen as time passes, and you simply feel as if you were always in this manner.
I believe being back has made me finally recognize that I’ve changed.
And that somehow I don’t fit here anymore.
You understand when you get yourself a feeling that something is missing, nevertheless, you just can’t put your finger onto it? That’s the feeling I’ve now.
There’s something about being in the us (and not simply my parents’ house in the suburbs; I’ve had this feeling since touching down in NEVADA) that’s making me feel uneasy.
Personally i think less connected to all of those other world. Personally i think like I’m surviving in a bubble. That the events happening beyond America aren’t even registering here. It’s like I can’t get anywhere whenever I’d like. It’s like I’m take off from the world.
I spent the previous few months of my trip in Cambodia while I wrote my book. But even there, in a single place, I felt just like the world was linked to me. That at any given moment, I possibly could go anywhere or do anything. I don’t believe that here. I feel just like the outside world is a lot more than only a flight or bus ride away. That to get out I must get away from this invisible barrier that doesn’t exist overseas.
However, maybe I’m just filled with shit. Part of me feels as though I only “feel” in this manner because I wish to feel in this manner. Maybe by buying problem, I’m unconsciously trying to justify a desire never to settle down and discover an excuse. Maybe that is just my inner self wrestling over the realization that my backpacking, nomad days are over. In the end, transitions could be tough.
I don’t know. I’m just thinking aloud. Something is different these times. I can’t put my finger onto it or know if it’ll last forever, but something has changed, and only time will tell if this feeling is a temporary unease over changing my entire life or something m