Talking All Night

by Jase

Santiago is kind of boring to be perfectly honest.  Perhaps if we weren’t so completely poor or were better at making friends with locals, we could entertain ourselves better.  As of late however, I have not been feeling very friendly at all.  I’m rather lost inside my own self, reflecting, thinking about things.

I’ve talked things out, sort of at least, with some of the important people.  And I’ve definitely thought things out.  It has brought me to the point where I know what I want.  Now I have to make that happen, which can be scary.  Still, I feel like I’m in a good place with all of it.

Looking out over the Plaza de Armas from my sixth floor hostel balcony, I see life here.  Maybe it is the night view, the view that comes after talking about life all night.  Or maybe it’s just what is here in this continent in general.  But I just don’t feel like there is anything else for me this far south.  Spanish and this culture aren’t part of my future.  I appreciate it, thank it, and will never forget it, but I don’t have any desire to embrace it forever.  Not right now at least.

The people aren’t the problem.  The place isn’t the problem.  It has nothing to do with the culture or any of that.  Really, its me.  My place is not here.  My heart is not here.  I am beginning to feel to completely disconnected from the person I want to become.

So that is why I need to do something, even if it is drastic.  Probably, whatever I do won’t make sense to anyone but myself.  That’s never stopped me before and maybe that is the zone I’m most comfortable in.

Mystery.

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