Back In

I am back home. And back IN. 
In to my dreams, and desires, and writing. 
In to my home and my cats and my comforting bed. 
In to the world that I know and the world that I belong to: My life. However I see fit to live it. Some may not agree with my choices. Some may scrutinize me. 'A grown woman dedicating her life to STORIES!? Why doesn't she have children? A husband? A 'proper' job!' 
Some may be envious of my choices. My choice to follow my dreams - however delusional the may seem to be. My choice to leave my country behind, so I can understand what it truly means to come from that country, and to choose a new country to be part of. My choice of fashion, style, self expression. My guts. My will. My uniqueness. My charisma.
Some may roll their eyes, or worse - YAWN at the boredom that is myself. The plainness. The un-special. The invisible meek woman that speaks with a high pitch and is so wide eyed that most people think she is dumb, until she opens her mouth and they think she is bitter. 
Some may applaud me, encourage me, admire me. Some may hate me. Like, really really really hate me and wish I'd go f**k myself.
Some may love me. Yes, some may actually love me. They are also IN. Welcome in...