SPOILERS FOR GAME OF THRONES BELOW
I was watching Game of Thrones last Sunday when something amazing happened, Jon Snow was reunited with Sansa Stark, his half sister, after being separated six seasons ago by a series of unfortunate events, to say the least. For those of you who don't watch the series, this might sound incredibly underwhelming; for those you who do watch the series, you know what I'm talking about. It was not just reunion between two characters, so many things have changed since they last saw each other, so much has happened, it almost seemed like that moment was never gonna come. In a world like Westeros, loved characters are constantly going through hardships, or even dying, but for a moment, everything was fine. I remember watching the first few seasons, wanting the Starks to go back to Winterfell and be reunited at last. The thing is, its been so long since they went their separate ways that I'd actually forgotten that I wanted that to happen in the first place. The hope that they'd be back together felt more like a farfetched dream. So once it did happen, everything came back, the memories of a time when everything was alright. That's the power of nostalgia, it reminds you of something that you miss so much from your past, but its been so long that you actually forgot that you actually missed it, yet once you get it, you know that you're home. After watching the episode I had a strange feeling of comfort, as if something inside me had clicked. So I sat there, thinking about the things that I never think about, things from my past that would take me back. I found a few old school yearbooks and album photos and skimmed through them for a couple of hours. I won't go into details cause they're not important, but needless to say, it was a ride. These past few months have been pretty hard school wise, responsibilities pile up. The only thing one can do to tackle them is keep moving forward, there's no time to spare. It's once you se something like that episode when you remember there's a bit more to life than just work. It's funny, nostalgia's original meaning is "The anxieties displayed by Swiss mercenaries fighting away from home." Which was kind of my topic last blogpost, the uncertainty of not being able to go back home. I've been meaning to write something about uncertainty for a while now, I didn't realize I was already writing about it without knowing. The truth is, I want to go to college, get a job, have my own life, but I'm incredibly scared that things won't go as planned. I guess that's just how life works.
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I just came home from a 20 day trip to San Francisco and although it was incredibly fun, I would be lying if I didn't say that I wasn't thinking of coming back home half of the time. It's hard to think that in two years time I'll most likely be leaving the country for complete semesters at a time; leaving my house, my family, my friends. It's not an easy thought to process. I've been thinking about this for a while now, every passing day is one day less living the life I'm living right now, for better or worse.
All of this has led me to one thought: Home, what does it mean to me? Is it my room? My routine? Is it my little sister's incessant crying every morning? Or the memories shared? Maybe it's the promise of comfiness, that nothing can harm you while you're inside. Ben Franklin would have you think it consists on a place with "... food and fire for the mind as well as the body." While Maya Angelou believes that it's a "... safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” On the other hand, Beth Revis considers home to be a person. I guess they're all right. Regardless, although home is all those things, its still hard to pin down its exact definition: a place, a geographical location, a feeling, a moment, a person. I could go on. I suppose home is wherever, whenever, and whoever you want it to be. It's something conceptual rather than a real thing. Right now, I sit alone, writing this blog post in my room on a Sunday afternoon, listening to Gerry Rafferty's "Baker Street", as I wait for the next "Game of Thrones" episode to air. In the room next to mine, my parents watch a movie while my sister plays silently with one of her dolls. In a nutshell, that's my home, not all of it though, as it also includes my beach, the school (definitely the IA classroom), and my friends. So, what comes next? What's waiting for me after I go to college and leave the physical manifestation of what I tend to call home? Although I'm excited about possibility that I might find a new home, I'm also completely terrified; coincidentally, "Baker Street" has a line which encapsulated my doubts "... city desert makes you feel so cold. It's got so many people but it's got no soul." I don't know if I'll be ready to leave once I finish school or whether I'll find what i'm looking for once I get there, I guess I'll just have to wait and see. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
May 2016
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