je te promet.

What to write? I feel like I should express something new, something different about Belgium that I've yet to share, but my thoughts are blank. Maybe if I just write aimlessly, ideas will meet me along the way.

Tomorrow's Thanksgiving
and my amount of indifference worries me. Naturally, I should be longing to be home with my family and friends, smiling and laughing at jokes I actually understand, staring at a table overwhelmed by plates bearing turkeys in pilgrim hats buried by prepared home recipes, or rather those of Martha Stewart and Paula Dean.

Naturally.

But I just don't register anything. I think the speed of time confuses nostalgia. I don't know what home is anymore. "Chez moi ici", "chez moi aux Etats-Unis". Chez moi.. chez qui?
Though, it's not that it really bothers me. En fait, it's actually a little comforting.
I've found "home" in myself. Home to me is now the feeling of familiarity and comfort, not necessarily walls and a roof.

I'm at home when my headphones plug my ears as their red wires tangle in my hair,
or when I'm wandering without a destination, my camera resting with curiosity around my neck.
I'm at home when my back rests against the bark of a lonely tree and I can sing to only him;
I can inhale the new air of spring, crisp air of fall, or brisk air of winter
and watch the sun or the clouds or the rain or the birds,
whoever decides to join me that day.

Home is an escape, which to me is simplicity.

I don't think anyone here really understands that, that I find happiness in the simplest things.
It doesn't bother me when I eat lunch with no one but my ipod and rooted best friend. It's relaxing to be in solitude de temps en temps.

It's great and all that you're truly concerned about my well-being, but I'm not going to cry in a corner because you have plans to eat with someone else. I'm not as fragile as you think, I promise.

À qui je parle?

Okay, I'm done expressing the sorrows of my pride,
which then brings me to another thought:

to be an exchange student, you need to let go of "you".

Well, at least at first. Initially, you need to talk and try to make friends, but not be frustrated that you lack personality. If you aim to express yourself and show your true character, you'll only feel unsatisfied by your inability.

I always find myself trying to be Jordann, but I can't. At first, I was so bothered by it, but over time, I realized that it's just the nature of a language barrier.

Ironically, the inability to express character builds it. I find myself feeling more content with who I am each day although others don't truly realize it.

I just constantly think, aimlessly yet deeply;
consequently consuming my time.
Par exemple, I've been writing this post for nearly two hours now because of my thoughts

who now think it's time to go.