... I Hate Oxford
Trip Start
May 17, 2008
1
40
Trip End
Ongoing
Sao Paulo, State of Sao Paulo, Brazil
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
To those that know me, what I am about to say is nothing new ... I HATE OXFORD. I HATE the (*%¨&) of a city that birth me. Yes, I consider it a pisshole. No really, I consider it a black hole with the destructive gravitational force of a screaming two-year old doped up on coco-pops!
As my sister would say, I have issues ... which in all fairness is completely true. Even so, 9 times out of 10, when there was an interruption of life or a great pain was initiated that would have to be overcome this city was somehow involved. The other thing that was involved comes from the back end of a bull.
How is it that a pissant little town of less than 10,000 can hold so much negative and foreboding presence for any one person, I will never understand. And we wonder why I have never felt at home or at ease anywhere or with anyone in my adult life. (Rio maybe the first exception) and yet, my time with her is being taken away all too soon.
Unless I can see a solution, soon I will be returning back to the hole from which I came. And quoting Luke 4:24 "Truly I say to you, no prophet is welcome in his hometown. " If only the prophets words weren't so true.
I wasn't finished. I wasn't finished with my journey. I wasn't finished with the story. Things were just started to click, but it would seem the negative pole (the bane) of my existence has called me back once again to die more silent deaths within its prison walls.
No public transportation whatsoever, no arts or music to speak of, no natural beauty, no culture, with little to see and nothing to do but live in the protected and socially-maintained bubbles of work, walmart, junkfood, and the emotionally mind-numbing yet necessary self-medication of cable TV and CNN.
In embarking on this journey, I tried to give myself to the fates. To ask that they show me what I needed to see. To let them guide me. Maybe this is part of the story. Maybe the story doesn't end here. I hope not. Maybe I get to return and finish what I started ... I hope so. Maybe there is a point to all this (although, believing that anything has a point is more difficult when I am in that town ... it would be nice if there were!) ... and I wonder why I wander.
