Tuesday, July 17, 2018


by taking off the mask (writer), Los Angeles, September 22, 2010

Credit: unknown
Avril - nobody's home
watch the video

A girl made a pyramid with her arms over her head and said “this, this is my home.” I didn't really get it back then, now I do.

Ever heard a song and liked it, but didn't connect to it? I have, but as time passes I seem to come across the song again and feel it is perfect for the situation that I am in, at that moment in life. I always enjoyed this song, always thought the meaning had to do with the music video but when I listened to the lyrics I realized it had to do with so much more, at least to me it did.

I decided to randomly listen to the song this morning and when I heard it I wanted to cry. I didn't cry because I don't know how, but I wish I did. Every single lyric made sense, it was how I felt. I'm stuck in a different country than my parents and most of my family. And the home I lived in for the last 9 years is empty, and no longer belongs to me. When I was visiting Los Angeles and going through a lot of emotional challenges and changes in my life I simply wanted to walk into my house go to my room and cuddle with my blankets, be a little girl, but I couldn't. I had no place, I was hopping from house to house. Every weekI would crash at someone else's house and feel like an impostor.

I don't know if you ever experienced the awkwardness of when someone asks where you're from and you don't know what to say? When they ask where you live and you just shrug. When they ask where you're going? And you honestly don't know. Not only do you feel like a fool but you feel homeless and scared. I have never been on the streets, thank G-D, but I haven't felt like I had a home for a while. I am waiting for paper work to finish and the process to finish so I can go back to Israel and be with my family, to have a home, but even then I will still feel homeless.

But this song doesn't just make me think about a house, a home, it means so much more. When she says she wants to go home, I think about being home and actually being home, being a part of my family, connecting with them, being honest with them. I haven't been a part of my family since middle school which was a long time ago. I don't know how or when things changed but they did. I was a stranger living in my parents home, and they weren't even aware to the extent. Never had I felt I had a place to cry, because I knew I had no one to dry my tears, but me, and so I held them in, till I forgot how to shed them.

Also when she says she makes the same mistakes over and over again, I laughed because thats what I do, and my friends feel so loss because they don't know how to help me they can just watch. I'm to stubborn to listen to them and want to figure it out on my own, they won't always be there so what help can it be if I let them win my battles for me?

I don't know why but lately I also feel religiously lost. I believe in G-D 100% but I can't seem to connect the way I used to. The high holidays just passed and well it was meant for a time of redemption and saying sorry. I was spacing out and day dreaming almost the entire time and the times I wasn't I was wishing it was over so I can leave and go back to sleep. Never had I felt that way in the past. Two years ago I had been in Temple the entire day from 7am – 9pm and praying and wishing the sun wouldn't set so I could have more time. This year I was mostly going so I wouldn't look bad. I felt my home, in G-D's house was not mine, like I moved out and didn't even know it.

I remember my first day at a new school we went around saying where we lived, one girl made a pyramid with her arms over her head and said “this, this is my home.” we all laughed including her. She had a house but she didn't know where to tell us she lived because she moved so often. I didn't really get it, but now I do. I started to feel like I have no home, no place to be my comfort zone, I am homeless in my mind, and with that feeling I repeat the song for the 6th time in a row.

When all is gone and no roof to cover my head and no bed to call my own I know the only place I can find comfort is in my own arms and in my soul. Thanks Avril for helping me put my feelings into words and my thoughts into an organized train of thought.

About the Writer

taking off the mask is a writer for BrooWaha. For more information, visit the writer's website.
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