Change of pace

Change of country. Out from the Eastern Europe and directly to France. No, not in Paris, not even in a town starting with a P. It starts with a G if you must ask. Broken free from the shackles of employment and into the warm embracing arms of unemployment. I guess you could call this a life changing event.

I guess I could play it heroic and say that I’m all cool and happy and that’s it. But the fact of the matter is that that is not it. I’m terrified. A nice warm terrific feeling deep inside me. Broken loose from the safety of family and friends. Terrific is not terrifying I hear you say? That’s because I can’t call it terrifying in the true sense of the word. It’s… strange, scary and amazing all rolled into one.

It’s not the first time that I left my home country. But this is the first time I bought a one way ticket. Homesickness will go away in time. What I’m not so sure about is missing the people I broke loose from.

About the change of pace thing: since I’m unemployed and not looking (yet), I’m pursuing my dream (no, it’s not writing, although I do enjoy it). It’s, dare I say, art. I have several problems with the definition of art in our times, but that’s something for another post. So, here I am, at the start of my ‘European adventure,’ which includes but is not limited to: Germany, UK, Spain, Holland (or Netherlands as some of you may be familiar with), and which has the HQ in G-town.

Wish me luck.


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