Over the last few weeks this word was humming in my mind: outsider. That is what i feel like. Through my own actions. I sold my house, against the advice of my family and of my friends. I am living in rooms now and my money is getting less. All my decisions.
Why? Why am i doing this to myself? Why not trying to find a job, trying to make things work in this world, find a feeling of security in myself.
I have asked these questions before. I am still not sure of the answers. It does come done to that feeling i had in 2014, that hit with a sledgehammer telling me i need to work work work! Which is what i am doing today. Still responding. Still not letting go, still biting my teeth and trying to go through this, this moment of not knowing, feeling helpless and unsure of what to do next. Feeling like i am almost giving up. Almost.
I have driven myself outside of this Western European society i am living in, the Netherlands. I still walk through town, watching the people riding or walking by. I let the dogs sniff my hands if they want to. I smile when i see an opening in someone’s eyes. But i am an outsider.
There are many more people like me living outside of the main working body of this Dutch society. Homeless people, people without work, old people, young people with still so many possibilities in front of them.
But i have picked my path. I am sticking to it. I try to walk it with dignity, quiet, paying attention to what surrounds me. I still make mistakes. Sometimes i am not sure of what to do next. But this is my path, the way i walk steadily with conviction. Unsure, yes. But determined. Yes.