Getting back to Prague.

Sometimes I feel like I can't wait to get back, but then sometimes I feel like I don't want to, but I can't think of one logical reason why I wouldn't want to, except that I should really really want to. I don't know what it is. It isn't anything rational. I wonder if I have been conditioned, while I have been here, to think it is necessary to stay here and "live a real life."

What the hell is that all about? What really sucks is there isn't really anyone I can talk to about it, because not only does it not make any sense... there is just no one around here that would understand.

What if I get back to Prague and feel like I should be back here? I don't know. I sure as hell don't want to be here. Not really.

One time this guy told me, this guy having lived in Prague for a while, that if I went to Prague it would completely destroy my 'sense of place'. I think maybe this is what he was talking about.

But maybe this is only a little part of it.

Maybe part of my anxiety about moving back is not really knowing my place there. I won't be teaching English. I will continue doing some things for my dad for a few months so that I can search for a job and he will pay me --since I don't get paid right now-- for a few months so I can find something. I don't know. Why the hell do I need to have a "place" anywhere?

Blugh.

I just got back from a two week vacation to San Francisco. Moving my sister out there after she got married. And while I was away from work, just free, I wanted nothing more than to get back to Prague. Which makes me wonder if that is not a more pure representation of what I want. I know that I am sometimes easily influenced by 'projects' -- for lack of a better word. And can sometimes be blinded by then, then end up resenting them because they take up all my time and ruin my life because I spent too much time working on them only I don't seem to ever realize it for far too long.

It also seems weird going back to Prague. Being there originally, half the fun of it was that you just flew out there, not ever knowing really what to expect, and just having to survive with what you had and what you could manage. Going back loses that flavor. I know what I am getting myself into this time.

Did I love it, though?

Even the hardest parts I did.

Was it perfect?

Not even kind of close.

If I don't go back to Prague, where would I rather be? Nowhere. I'd rather be in Prague. Some people are leaving, though, and the people are what made Prague great. I mean... there are more people to meet. There is noone to meet here. I would rather be in Prague. But part of me keeps thinking if I go back, I will be missing 'real life' going on here.

But what the hell is there to miss? Honestly.

People never changing. News reports entertaining you with terrorism. I can't just stay here forever because of my family. As much as I love them and will miss them, that is no reason not to do other things. And it's not like I couldn't see them, either. Planes fly all the time.

One thing about being here is the isolation. There isn't anything to do. There isn't anything to see. Even if you try. I spend a lot of my time in my room watching movies. People are just busy. Or I am.

I wonder if the lack of social interaction here makes me anxious about going back to a life that is actually life. It's so much safer here. But not real.

I sometimes have a problem with my past. I have a problem with, after I have left something... after it is behind me, all I know how to do is reject it. Like with friends that I was friends with but then we just didn't hang out for a while for some reason, I am really awkward with them. I'm not sure I want to be around them.

Maybe it's an emotional thing. Maybe I have diconnected emotionally, but I know they know too much about me and we have been through too much together to not be emotionally connected.

After a while, though. It's fine.

Am I trying to protect myself somehow?

I don't understand myself.
Not even a little bit.
Not at all.