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  • Is there anything I enjoy more than finding myself alone in a strange place, among strangers, an obvious outsider?

    Perhaps enjoy is the wrong word.

    Thrill might be better.

    For it is not something I can sustain for very long before loneliness and a desire to be back with those I know and love overtakes me.

    But in the moment,

    The moment of anonymity,

    I feel like I am floating. Magically. Like Oscar Zoroaster transplanted into his wonderland, I feel a combination of charade and reality and no sense of which of those two qualities is dominant and no sense of even wanting to know.

    It's an effect that is easy to sustain. In England, I come across as American (or Canadian or Australian) - I don't know why, I can't see it myself - but I do. In America I come across as English (or Australian). With a simple nod to the question I can place myself far outside wherever I am.

    A stranger. A little stranger than the usual stranger too.

    I like this.
  • I've always liked the feeling, that feeling of being separate.

    So when I walk through a completely unknown place,

    A place where I am unlikely to return,

    I get a sense of real joy of just being somewhere new.
  • I can't really say I'm a wanderer

    For I like to wander

    From time to time

    Not all the time.
  • Nor can I really say I am a homebody

    Despite having a home

    A place to work.

    For sometimes, there is that sense of the wizard

    Doing tricks and amusing the locals

    Sometimes longing to be elsewhere

    And sometimes not.
  • I like this.

    I feel at home not being at home.

    But I like being at home too.

    Isn't life wonderful?

    For like Oz, I can straddle worlds and somehow make it work.

    Photos and sounds from Thurstonland, Yorkshire
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