So I went back to the safe option.
English. Because I forgot French and my Italian is basic. I wouldn't get lost but I can't hold a real conversation.
Indonesian, Farsi, Urdu, Japanese, Mandarin, Tagalog, Tunisian, Libian, Marokan and Palestinian Arabic are gone. I can order a beer. Say hey. First one is useless in most Arab countries.
No beer. Get it?
The song I am listenig is Unstoppable by Sia.
Most likely because I feel powerless.
But I decided I should go back to where I was fifteen years ago. And this is the beginning of that journey.
I am an angry person. Not always a man. Whatever that means.
That is because I have so many unresolved issues from my childhood and it took me so much time to realise what and how wrong I perceived normality. But here I am. 35. In Albania close to Greece. Intimately scared of speaking my own language. So I resort to my son's.
I tell myself that I am protecting my family by omitting.
But the truth is I have no family.
I will not get into details but I just have to write it as it is. I can't say it out loud.
I love the thought of having a family.
You see, I am deeply in love with a boy.
He makes my heart stop. He lights up my day. We dance. We play. We have deep conversations about what happened. He explains me that the lights on the horisont are a plane. He holds my hand when we lift off because I am scared of flying. He shows me how to make a happy face. How I should look angry. How to recognise a monster. Also ghost. That's extremely important because monster or a ghost can come anytime and he knows when I should take cover.
And he taught me every single word I know in Swedish.
Every.
Single.
Word.
Here's the thing. When he was born I thought for approximately 6h most days what can I focus on. That's how long my commute was in majority of C-19 was. I'm not complaining. I've met many interesting people on the way. From murder confessions to outright proposals.
And I decided that he will teach me another language.
You see, I grew up with a "I'll show you how to do it" father and a "Don't do it" mother. In between I had enciclopedias and Youtube. I had a diy scattered group of friends. And no money. So my knowledge was always theoretical. Knowledge none the less.
It's fair to say that I didn't care enough for my academic career. I cared about practical knowledge and people. I still do. Deeply.
Unfortunately that care stops when I leave the enviroment.
Every place I ever worked at experienced that.
But that is what you get when you are brought up by a father that leaves every few months.
So I just shut down. That's my emotional response. I don't know how to differently.
I have an alcohol abuse problem.
That's why this exists.
That's why I was always very careful regarding drugs.
If you are cunning and perceptive (hehe) you might notice that I am also engaging in self pity and pathetic rants. As Uroš Tomić said in 2006 when he discovered my blog in front of about 30 random people. He is making music and his pseudonym is Sick Boi. I like one song he made. Rest I will not comment because artists deserve to be paid.
So I decided to be there always. With all of the baggage and insecurities I have.
I can hold the mask of rightness only so much. Everyones fall off at some point. Might as well shoot it down myself and cut the line for him.
But here's the deal.
I'm your Pappa.
I'll make mistakes. I'll be wrong. I won't understand you.
I hope you will teach me as you taught me Swedish.
I thought that the world I was fighting for was for my friends.
I never thought it was all for you.
All I have are my experiences. And the world I grew up in.
You are my window into the future you want.
I'll be there. It might take me time. Just be patient.
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