All the clichés
running through my head
“a life packed into boxes”
the bare walls are left
with the imprint of my life
the remainders of my presence
never to return
such a strange feeling
hard to put into words
what does it mean? What does it mean?
a poem spills
from my fingertips
no other purpose for it
it`s just here
my thoughts etched into ink
(photograph and very badly written poem by me)
Tonight is my last night in Maastricht, a city very dear to me. I`ve lived here for 6,5 years, and have always enjoyed it here. It`s been an interesting time, very rich in experiences. The city changed me into a different person, one I like much better than the 17 year old high school graduate that first moved here in that summer of 2007.
I am sad to leave. This is my home, I have a life here. It`s very unfortunate that my life here is no longer sustainable. The lack of opportunities, and especially the lack of funding in the shape of a job, any job at all, has become too much and I made the decision to leave. Lick my wounds, so to speak. Reassemble.
I hope that by going back to my original hometown (despite never having considered it home) will allow me a new start, a fresh beginning. A return to base to regroup and plan a new strategy and from there move on again.
I won`t forget this city, or my time here. I won`t forget the people I met in these past years. I won`t forget the wonderful and the less wonderful experiences, the joys, the happiness, the pain and the sorrow. It`s only in experiencing all emotions that we become a full-rounded human being, and while I by no means am a perfectly full-rounded human being (there are definitely a lot of rough edges and I hope they stay there) I`ve learned a lot here, and I am eternally grateful.
So cheers, to good memories. Cheers to new beginnings. And cheers to all of you, for joining me on this journey.