mia-zeklos:

• You’ve learnt at least two languages while still in school. Then a third. A fourth. They’re slowly starting to merge together. You’re not quite sure what your native language is anymore.
• There are people on the streets looking confused. ‘Tourists’, you tell yourself. It’s always tourists. That’s what your parents have taught you to think.
• Your mother is still angry at Winston Churchill for something he said about your country during World War Two. She was born in 1970.
• You’re vaguely aware of the fact that America is trying to build something in the countryside. Some say it’s useful, others that it’ll harm you. You know the truth. You keep quiet.
• America is always there, just out of sight. Everyone hates it and resents it, but isn’t sure why. Few have gone there. Fewer have returned.
• There used to be four seasons once, or so people say. Now there is little more but winter and summer. The winters are getting warmer. The summers are getting colder. You’re not sure your country is where it was before.
• All your neighbouring countries hate you. You hate them too. A century hasn’t yet passed from the last war. Everyone tries to pretend they’ve forgotten, but they haven’t. They haven’t.
• The borders are not what they used to be. You pass from one country to another and don’t really notice. It’s only when you reach the ocean that you realise how far away from home you are. You turn around and realise that you’ve made a very big mistake.