Lost in Translation

I just finished watching Lost in Translation for probably the zillionth time and I'm feeling really homesick. Well not homesick so much as Tokyosick. Because it's not really my home anymore. I guess it never really was. It just felt that way. I like Lost in Translation because it reminds simultaneously of what I miss about Tokyo and why I was really relieved to be leaving it all behind when I came back to BC. Today however my mood seems to be leaning more toward the what I miss about Tokyo side of things. Most of all I think I miss the feeling of being free. It sounds cheesy I know (and I ought to know because I am the queen of cheese) but being somewhere where you can never be truly a part of the culture and are so blatantly an outsider is a really liberating experience. I mean, it's also a mind-bogglingly frustrating experience at times but overall I don't think I can think of a time and place where I felt more truly free to just be whoever or whatever I wanted to be from moment to moment. I guess it was because it didn't matter what I did, I was always viewed as somewhat of a freak that I felt that I could be as freakish as my heart desired. Not that I've ever really been one for holding myself back regardless of where I am. It was just different. I'm not as good at explaining these things as I would like to be.

I think I also miss my home in Tokyo. It was a crappy little apartment by our standards but it was wholly and completely mine. Especially the last month when Kohsuke had taken his things and gone. Then it became all me. And I loved it. I'm one of those people whose homes become an extension or expression of themselves and this apartment was the first place I'd had that felt like it was really me. There was nothing in it that I didn't love. Well, except for the cockroaches. I so didn't love them. But I didn't actually bring them in, they were kind of like party crashers. Bastards. Anyway, I miss that feeling of coming home to a place that is yours (or in this case, mine). There's such a feeling of contentment and relaxation that comes from being in exactly the environment you want to be in. I've never been a big fan of staying at other people's places for any length of time so my current situation is hard. I know, in the grand scheme of things my current problems are pretty insignificant but as much as I tell myself that, I still don't feel it. Logic has no place in my melancholy. For the most part I'm happy to be back here on the island (because it really is my home no matter where else I may go) but this rootless feeling is starting to wear on me. Maybe it's because I'm not actually moving forward. It's not an adventure at the moment, I'm not travelling or learning or whatever, I'm just in a holding pattern. Waiting. For something. I'm not sure what. But I do know that I've got figure it out, and soon.

Part of me wants to just stuff everything into storage, scoop up my little doglet and head for...wherever, but I've always gone with my gut feeling and my gut is telling me to stay put. Stupid gut. I've actually never had that stay put feeling before. It's strange. And off-putting. But I don't argue with the gut. I've learned. The gut always knows. Of course by stay put I mean on the island. Not Duncan. My gut has thankfully stopped telling me to hide under my air mattress and speak to no one and has now decided that Victoria is the place for me to be. It just feels right. I was considering hauling myself to the Yukon or Calgary or somewhere with considerably more design work but again with the gut. Distinct "no" feelings. So here I am. The gut wants roots. And I just want comfort for awhile. I want to know that my fate is in my own hands and that I am responsible for myself and all of my decisions. I think I've catapulted right back into the commitment phobic state of mind. And I like it.