I've been home for a few days now, and the emotions have been mixed. As the plane touched down I felt happy to see the beautiful cliffs and sun of Santa Barbara, but as I got off the plane that all sort of drained away. I could barely speak or look anyone in the face. This continued for most of the day. Conversations became flight or fight and I had to struggle to keep silent or keep in place. All I could do was think about New Orleans, and the thought that troubled me most was that while I was thinking about it, the majority of the people in America are not.
But sleep does miraculous things to a person, and after a good night's sleep I'm feeling a little better and a little less detached. Even, in a way, looking forward to the semester. I guess it's nice to be back to some familiar things here.
It's just difficult to remember that I had a life before New Orleans, or that I'll have one afterwards.
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