I got home. I got home and realised I used to like my hometown. I used to like my hometown until I travelled and saw what else the world has to offer. I mean, I still like it, it's a nice town, but's that's pretty much it. It's NICE. I know now that there's so much going on somewhere else (too, I may need to add not to sound far too negative) and I'd like to be in the middle of it. It's one of these grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side effects, but then again I've been on the other side and it was really green. Greener? For some parts, absolutely, but at the end of the day I don't know. No matter what my life is where I am. There can be life in England, but there can also be life in Finland. I'm trying my best to hold on to that thought. However, I liked feeling exotic. Ok, shut up, Finland isn't very exotic, but let me explain. I liked it that my hair was the colour all the English girls were after. I liked it that I came from somewhere else. I liked having something the others didn't have. I liked being one of a kind. In my hometown it's not like that. I'm just like everyone else. Or that's how other people see me — it's not how I feel. I hate it that people can't see your history written all over your face! I wish everyone could see where I've been cause it kind of defines me.
What surprised and disappointed me about coming back was I remember everything too well. Everything here is too familiar, almost as if I never was away, and that I don't like. The only thing I keep doing is I keep passing people on the left hand side. It's particularly dangerous when you're riding a bike. And at first I had to focus to thank people in Finnish. I only failed once. The weirdest thing I came across were the forks we have at home. They are the weirdest and most ridiculous forks ever. I bet you a hundred quid my family's having a laugh and they've changed them while I was away. The only thing is... they didn't. For now, being here feels somehow pointless, it's still like what am I doing here? I miss speaking English SO BADLY. I miss the politeness. I miss the seaside and the pier. I miss the people. I miss a lot of things. (I don't miss waking up at half past five, though!) My friends need to understand that for me it's not only good to be back, not everything about it is nice, but it's not because of them. Only by doing what I did you'll understand. There's nothing I can do.
What surprised and disappointed me about coming back was I remember everything too well. Everything here is too familiar, almost as if I never was away, and that I don't like. The only thing I keep doing is I keep passing people on the left hand side. It's particularly dangerous when you're riding a bike. And at first I had to focus to thank people in Finnish. I only failed once. The weirdest thing I came across were the forks we have at home. They are the weirdest and most ridiculous forks ever. I bet you a hundred quid my family's having a laugh and they've changed them while I was away. The only thing is... they didn't. For now, being here feels somehow pointless, it's still like what am I doing here? I miss speaking English SO BADLY. I miss the politeness. I miss the seaside and the pier. I miss the people. I miss a lot of things. (I don't miss waking up at half past five, though!) My friends need to understand that for me it's not only good to be back, not everything about it is nice, but it's not because of them. Only by doing what I did you'll understand. There's nothing I can do.
The thing (or problem) with so many people is, that if they're mostly satisfied with their lives, they don't feel like they need anything else. They don't want anything else, because they can't miss anything they don't know exists. And that's why they never go anywhere, they never leave their hometowns, and shame on them. They are missing out. I think it's better to miss something than to miss out on something. Oh yes. I'm so lucky having been where I've been, having seen what I've seen. It was time well spent.
