Travelogue Part 10: S’Tuesday

img_5528And now it is Tuesday. I know this because my tuesometer is ring-a-dinging like crazy. And it’s a day. I can always sense days. It’s a built in sense I possess, sort of a superpower. I can also ignore tall buildings with a single glance, fail to stop speeding express trains and die if bullets are fired at me. I’m a cut-price Superman. If you have a problem and if you can find me…don’t bother, I’m shit at problem solving.

I’m still America. The essence of America has been transfused into my blood stream and my brainwaves and I am not keen on it being flushed out again at the weekend when I land back on that tiny, expensive island I call home by default but which feels less and less like home the more I realise that those fuckwits who voted for Brexit have effectively shot the heart right out of Britain leaving the country flailing around in its final death throes while arsewipe politicians have no fucking clue how to make Brexit a positive experience for the people of the country. Because it was never going to be a positive experience for the people, only for the rich. Like that’s an unusual scenario, eh?

Ooh get me being all bitchy. Listen, I’m not a twat, I know America is going through its own self-inflicted hell with a demented Dorito president but I still wish I could come live here. I never have fitted the prevailing cultural norms of my own society and I might not fit them here as such but at least in the states I’d be a foreigner by birth and thus cut a little more slack when it comes to being sorta kooky. Not shooting up malls kooky, that’s not my thing at all. People are always frowned upon for that anyway, whatever their nationality. Just, you know, nutbar fruitloop who says things like ‘rubbish’ and knows that the word ‘squirrel’ is made up of two syllables.

Home calls a little louder now. It will be great to see some friends back home, swap some stories, but it’s going to be an even bigger wrench leaving America this time around than it was last year. I know I can’t force my life into a shape it’s not meant to be in. I know that me feeling like America and I have much unfinished business may just be wishful thinking, but I’m liable to keep on wishing and thinking. Please stop reading this post now, I’m full of meatballs and need to do some nap time.

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