Hello, From Barcelona

Hello, from Barcelona.

 

I’ve moved once again and before I go on an enormous rant about how I move cities/countries and/or jobs every one to six months, I’m going to stop myself. Yes, I feel like a flake and somewhat of a loser, but in my defence I am trying to find myself. I’ve experienced a job I love in a city I hate, and a job I hate in a city I love. Now, I’m finding the perfect fit so that I can continue to be inspired.

While I feel somewhat inspired right now (Barcelona is fucking fantastic. I look up at the architecture every day and feel utterly speechless at the beauty), I know that I haven’t found what I am looking for. It often leaves me feeling uneasy, incomplete, lonely, and or sad.

I went home to South Africa about a month ago and it was weird. I wasn’t bright eyed, I wasn’t like a tourist in my own city. In fact, I barely felt a thing… until I stood at the boarding gate with my brother. He could see something was missing. He felt something that I hide from the world.

What is it though?