Something must break

When I Get To New Orleans…


Title: Professor Longhair – Mardi Gras In New Orleans

 

I dream of just running away from my life and closing myself in in a house in New Orleans, listening to all the music I wish was still present. This new music isn’t really for me. I liked music better back before rock’n’roll was made. Or maybe it’s just that none of the most “mainstream” music genres really are for me. Maybe I’m not really supposed to listen to rock, techno, hip hop and all those other things you listen to. By the way, rock = indie, alternative, “alternative and punk”.

 

Of course, I’m not just talking about music here, I’m using metaphors. I don’t feel like a normal person. I’m not normal either. I don’t feel at home really anywhere for a long time. Home is where you can be yourself at all time and you don’t have to be afraid. Lately, I’ve been feeling New Orleans to be my home city. I feel like that is where I belong. It’s…complicated. But I guess I can explain it with the simple fact of that it’s not as documented and it’s more…okay for me to do mistakes there. I can do them, and no one will care. Actually, in my mind, THEY WILL CARE! But they will say “Hey, everyone does mistakes, now get up and let’s pretend it didn’t happen”, if you understand what I’m saying? It’s what I need. Instead of people laughing at your mistakes, hanging them over your head for years to come, saying you really shouldn’t try to think anything great of yourself at the same time as they’re saying you have all the means in the world to achieve something great (and then why don’t you?), I need a place where I can feel safe.

 

I’ve been growing up in a home where I may have feel safe during the first two years of my life, but after I turned three, I believe I haven’t really felt completely “safe” at “home”. I guess the closest to that safety I’m talking about, I’ve found at my grandma’s, but I visit her like two times a year because she lives so far away, and even there I don’t feel completely safe and completely able to be myself. I know there is a “myself” as I’m talking about from being left home alone for like a week or two. I didn’t feel completely safe and comfortable with being myself to the fullest even then.

 

I feel quite comfortable and safe in the company of my girlfriend, but not completely. I guess this sort of is related to her changes of mood and the fact of that I never really know if she’s on my side on each point of a matter or not. But everywhere feels a bit more like this “home” I’m striving towards with her. Staying with her all alone, is really close to this “home”. But it’s just…I’ve got some barriers to break down before I’m there.

 

I’ve been messed up. I know my dad’s messed me up good, and made me basically a quite awkward person in quite a large amount of matters. In spite of this, I also believe he’s the reason I’ve found the friends I have. Perhaps not all of them, but he’s probably the reason my friends from school are mainly either awkward people in need of some social help (which I sort of provide) or they are bossy, mean, hard and tough guys, who I’ll always seek some kind of recognition with. I want my father to give me some kind of recognition, which is probably why I get these kinds of friends. My dad isn’t exactly that kind of type. He might some day say he’s proud of me, but quite frankly, I’m not expecting it before he’s on his deathbed.

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