I Don’t Want To Live In America Anymore
How long-term travel has changed me
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“Thomas, I mean it — I don’t think we’re going to live here much longer.”
That’s what my parents told me yesterday.
They have lived in America all their lives, but now they want to leave? Really? I’m going to keep their reasons a secret because quite frankly they don’t matter.
What matters is I have the same exact feelings, but for different reasons.
It has nothing to do with the social unrest, the rioting, the looting, or the (what looks like) unraveling of America. I don’t care about that because I think it’s over-blown by the media anyway.
No, I don’t want to live in America because after living abroad for the last two years, I don’t feel very American.
I feel like something else.
The Karens Are Too Much For Me
I was watching a Casey Neistat vlog today and at around the 3:30 mark a woman scolded him for riding a bike around a neighborhood.
What the f*ck?
“How you doing?” Casey asks her.
“Yeah, it’d be great if you didn’t do it!” she replies back to him.
Honestly, I’ve lived in the Philippines for the last two years, and I have never once had an experience like that. Not one time. I haven’t even come close to somebody saying anything like that to me here.
Sure, I’m American and a foreigner and Filipinos are known for their amazing hospitality, but I’ve observed how my girlfriend talks to her kin and they’re never condescending like that to her. Ever.
My parents had similar experiences when they moved into the neighborhood we now live in.
Our neighbor was a condescending jerk to us because she thought we came from a lower class. When she sold her house and drove her car away my friends and I literally danced in the driveway.
