home and the silence from above.

on

Words from a late night solitary loneliness. Before the chaotic horrors of this week.

Home is a place I no longer know. Home is a place I cannot understand. Home is a place I dream of. Except. It is dark. It is black. It is a nightmare. It is the unknown. I don’t know what it is anymore.

Is it comfort?

Home is a place where I was told the worst. Home is a place I was beaten until I was down. Home is a place where I met my demons. Home is what I cannot get away from. And yet, home is elusive. It does not exist. Home is a place I cannot reach. Home is complex, a part of me, another part of me, interconnected, disconnected. The sparks are no longer lit.

Home is something I search for. Where are you, home? Home is you. Home is you. And you. And you. Home is a place, where the wounds open up again. And again. Home is where, once you arrive, you make your mark only to be slapped in the face. Once again. And again. Home is a  I forgot. An embrace I have not yet had. Home is security. Home is stability. I have neither. And yet, I feel secure. Home is a roof over my head. Or is that false security? Home is a place where family I barely know live.

Home is where I lived a marvelous experience. Never to be repeated because I was too stupid to realize what really mattered.

Home is a place which taught me toxicity. Home is a dead grandfather whose kind and generous reputation stands side by side by trauma. Is home trauma? Home is trying to figure out who I am.

Home is a society, who tried to banish me and yet still wants me to conform.

Home is a group of unknown people I met under the cedar flag, dancing, chanting a battle cry of revolution. People I might never meet again.

Because that’s what I am. A person without a home. Home is an illusion. Home is a mirage, never to come.

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“Home is where the heart is they said…”. Byblos, Lebanon. December 2018. ©le_chah_errant

(Note: I’m doing all right, thanks for asking. Home is a weird concept. I’ve lived in a lot places. And my heritage is all over the place. I’m still learning a lot about myself and who am I. The photo I leave you with this week is a huge part of my heritage. And yet, my heart right now is in a few places at once. Home is elusive. )

11 Comments Add yours

  1. Msdedeng says:

    That is an absolutely gorgeous picture, and you are very right about home 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. beachah says:

      Thank you! It is (for both) 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  2. A yearning for home. You have spoken from your heart and seems to be true largely.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. beachah says:

      Thank you! It is a deep yearning.

      Like

  3. Ayşe▪︎ says:

    Hello ! Nice blog i really like your blog’s photos . Good job
    Your blog about what ?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. beachah says:

      Hello! Thank you ! I’m happy you enjoy it.
      This blog is a little bit of analysis work, a little bit of commentary, and a little bit of creative work. I use it as my portfolio. I am publishing more creative pieces than analysis this year. There’s a lot happening out there driving me crazy so I have to concentrate on writing more analysis. I am a writer with a crammed brain; too many thoughts, which want to go on paper! This is where they land.
      The photos are all mine. I refuse to take free-domain photos from the web. The photo blogs let me showcase them.

      Like

      1. Ayşe▪︎ says:

        I am saying again and again good blog , you are a talented blogger , glad to meet you !!

        Liked by 1 person

      2. beachah says:

        Thank you 😊 Me too.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Ayşe▪︎ says:

        After the covid19 i started this blog , english language blog . You are a new blogger isn’t it ? Like me ?

        Liked by 1 person

      4. beachah says:

        Welcome to the blogging world! Not really, 5 years this September.

        Liked by 1 person

      5. Ayşe▪︎ says:

        🍀

        Like

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