I won't be any fun tonight.
I know everyone wants me to come home thrilled to see them, crying at the gate.
But the truth is, I am waiting for my delayed flight,
I gazing out at the California mountains thinking of the night I first landed in Brussels,
how the trees and grass
looked just like trees and grass
and not like anything foreign.
I am begging the mountains to take me back to Europe
where I could see all the foliage
that made me feel at home.
The desert here raised me for eighteen years but I find there's no longer any tumbleweed that satisfies my need to belong.

I want mountains I want oceans I want valleys I want canyons I want city skylines I want tropical jungles I want beaches I want the Great Wall

I don't want to settle.