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I Am An Immigrant

[c=#008099]Today I let myself weep with nostalgia. It's been something less than a year since I've been away from home. I feel like I'm not myself anymore. I have not spoken my language in days so all I can do is murmur when I'm alone and sing folk songs that I didn't even think I liked until recently. People here don't have the same sense of humour and communicating on a deeper level with someone is the hardest task. I feel like I'm the fool of the village. I feel like they see me as retarted. I have this bottle filled with sand from the beach near home, I sprinkle some in my hands and cry.[/c]
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I am NOT an immigrant, but I so often feel as though I am, and may as well be. I wish I could find someone who speaks my language of being.