Desorientation
I have a habit of travelling in and out of Europe - as I now call the place, where I am supposed to come from. It never was possible for me to accept the idea that I belonged to a specific place. As long as I can remember I have felt out of place. To go outside Europe gave me comfort - but it didn't give me any sense of belonging. I was given the possibility of seeing something else. Thereby I was able to tell different stories about myself. In New England I was sliding along the walls as a young and scared teenage boy. I could not find any space that I regarded as mine. Most of the time during a full year I walked silent as an invisible ghost. I could have returned to Denmark, but it didn't appear as an option. Was I colonised by a broader purpose? Eventually I returned to Denmark, where I finished high-school, as I was expected to do. Again I felt out of place, but in more profound manner. After high-school I decided to travel to Mexico. I was alone - it was a pleasure for me...