I still go into bookshops and feel a little upset and anxious because I know that I could never read everything there. Where does one start? Do you choose a letter and only read authors with that letter starting their last name?

I’ve thought about reading one book over and over again. Learning every minute detail the author put in there. Though, how I could decide on only one book, I just don’t know.

Then I start to worry a little. And think that maybe I haven’t done houses justice - I haven’t known the secrets of their walls and gardens. Did I ever talk to that person long enough to be able to map their personality accurately? When I’m away will I be able to carry them with me? [Replica friends in a town in my head.]

And my sweet, sweet little city of Adelaide. There’s no way I’ll ever know everything about you. How could anyone would use the excuse of “I know everything about this place and its people” as an excuse to leave? I promise, I’m not using that excuse, I wouldn’t even dream of it.

The closest I can come to explaining why I’m leaving, is that I feel complacent living here. I never quite take up the challenge of knowing everything I can about this town, and because of that, I’m not sure that I’d ever quite know me. When I’m travelling I feel much more stripped back, the outer layers of projected identity fall away and I begin to feel who I am again.

Prompted by Keri’s post - thought train…

This entry was posted on Thursday, March 9th, 2006 at 12:31 pm and is filed under adelaide, travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.