I Am No Longer an Alien
This is home now. That’s it.
Several years ago, home looked like framed manicured, picture perfect clips of reality. A path laid out, engulfed within the fabric of its society. I was enveloped by an ineffable sensation — a disconcerting disconnection from the familiar.
Despite the apparent recognition of my surroundings, a palpable sense of alienation pervaded. Each object, once mundane, now bore the weight of unfamiliarity, akin to relics of an antiquated civilisation, the very air pregnant with an unfamiliar aura.
The familiar spaces appeared to be mere semblances of their former selves. Their voices reverberated hollowly, a broken record in my mind, gestures mechanical, if not scripted, prompting a disquieting internal discord I lived by — a fragmented psyche yearning for cohesion within this ostensibly familiar framework.
