by Nic Olson
Countries celebrate the day that they sever ties between themselves and the motherland.
I have thought it absurd that I have lived in the same place for my whole life. I may have lived my first three years in a different city, but the first three years of life are about as important as the first three years of elementary school or the first three years of university or the first three years of a relationship, phoney and useless. But there are paths yet to tread. And there are people yet to meet. Twenty years in one place gives you a pretty good idea, but I don’t want a good idea anymore. I want no idea. But that’s not why I’m leaving.
I am about as dependent as I was when I was twelve, and it is a sorry life I’ve been living. Eating the city’s best food in the city’s newest basement suite, never doing anything except what I want, when I want, driving a car that doesn’t belong to me, eating food that I don’t pay for, sleeping on a floor that I didn’t vacuum. It is really quite pathetic. I need to struggle to flourish. But that’s not why I’m leaving.
Dependence isn’t a bad thing, but isn’t always great. Dependence exposes vulnerability, meekness; both are unwanted characteristics for most people. I could live dependent on someone for the rest of my life and be totally comfortable. But that’s not why I’m leaving.
I am severing myself from the motherland. And I’m not yet celebrating. I am declaring my own Independence day, January 10th, 2010. It could be disastrous. It was January 10th, three years ago, when I boarded a plane bound for India. Who knew that three years later my mind would be totally warped because of a combination of that first trip and two later trips. Who knew that January 10th would twice be my day of Independence in my life. Let’s see what this try will do to me.
I don’t know why I’m leaving. Nor if I stayed, would I know why I stayed. It’s just happening. My television serial has finished here due to lack of viewership. My spinoff begins Sunday.