Homesick...But I no longer know where Home is

Ah, the Kings of Convenience.  Music of the soft spoken persuasion, but more brainy than some.  A Simon and Garfunkel for the younger set, reminiscent of "Only Living Boy in New York" or "Homeward Bound."  They put it best...homesick.  But I no longer have a real home.

I have lost my origin, and I don't want to find it again.

   Sarah sent me a letter today empathizing with my lack of home, and I thought about it again.  Why was I so at home in Boston, and not so here?  Here, I walk down the street, and I hope that no one hits on me, or tells me hello in a sexy voice.  (I also hope that no one crazy follows me home with a baseball bat, calling me 'mother fucking white bitch.'  That already happened once.)  But aside from that, what else is it?  I don't know that many people here, both in the city and the school.  In Boston, I knew the clerks at the stores, and I had my favorite Whole Foods and TJ's clerks.  I'd see people I recognized all the time, whether walking down Newbury or sitting in a random restaurant.  At the same time, there was such anonymity, as though the city could suck me into its stratosphere, and I would be happy, consumed with Boston.  I don't have that here- I have a few restaurants and stores that I frequent, but it's not quite the same.  And people, they don't know me.  I'm just another student, nameless and nondescript, unmemorable.  In Boston, every student was an anthropological field day- try to guess what college I go to?  Sweat pants and super tanned?  Hello Northeastern!  Flamboyantly gay man with plucked eyebrows or shaved legs?  Dancer or MT major, for sure.  Hipster boy?  Probably NEC.  But here, we're all the same, and no one cares either way.  

   So I miss Boston, but it's not my home.  A few weeks ago, I went, and saw few people I knew.  A whole new class of people has gone through NEC without me- a new flock of grad students, and a whole new crop of freshman.  Thousands of people have taken my spot in Boston, filled the void I left behind in my apartment, my work, my orchestras.  And California, well, it's beautiful, but I haven't spent more than 3 weeks there in 3 years.  And I have few friends there, but everything's covered in the filmy dust of time.  My dogs are dead, and my parents are my only solace "at home."  So I'm homeless.  

    I have Wanderlust, perhaps.  But if only this wanderlust was accompanied with Claymation water buffalo, everything would be better.  So I clean through my closet, I try not to buy things, because it makes it easier to leave.  I'm careful with how many people I befriend in my building- transience endangers friendships.  

Did I imagine it would be like this? Was it something like this I wished for?

And to think that two years ago, I so badly wanted to leave Boston, leave classical music.  And now everything's changed, and it's not what I wanted.  But I don't know what I want, what I wish for.  I didn't imagine it would be like this, I didn't know I would be so alone, so uncomfortable in my surroundings.  I guess I just have to keep looking, looking for a new origin, a new home, something that I wished for.  Somewhere where I am as comfortable inside my apartment as I am outside it.

Listening to: Fujiya and Miyaga.  (or whatever they're called.)