When I was in Vietnam, particularly the latter half of my experiences, I longed to be home. Home has been wonderful. The comforts of family and the solace of friends have made home everything I dreamed of.
…at least in the beginning. Now, after 3 months, I find myself lost in the time spaces in between where I was and where I want to be. Floundering in time between when my family leaves for work and when they come home, my thoughts wander between the past, present and future with little direction. My once busy self feels like it is slowly disintegrating into the nothingness of lethargy and infinite listlessness.
Trying to fill the void is like trying to fill the Sahara desert with water from a sparsely dripping hose. The books I’ve read but temporary assuage the thirst for productivity. The projects only momentarily alleviate the crippling parchedness.
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