Life has become a calender day

"The reason death sticks so closely yo life isn't biological necessity- it's envy. Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous, possesive love that grabs at it what it can." (Yann Martel)

I'm finding myself caught between counting the days left and lossing my breath because there may not be enough time. It happens. But for me, it's happening, and despite my failed attempts in the past to make this end faster, it's actually happening too fast.

The feeling on normality was evident when i started this. Normality in the sense that wanting to go home was the expected eighteen-year-old mind consuming homesickness. But is it?
I mean, what part of being here is really hard? When i try to put my finger on something that i couldn't work through or make light of a situation, i can't find anything.
This is so easy, but in reality, why does death remain to stick with the life of me?

I labelled it normal when i first felt it. And that was the main problem and my main point today. I chose to make the feeling of death being a part of this "normal", but i could have chosen not to.
And things are damn well changing in that department now.
A traveller seems to not be their own person here. They are a traveller, and they may as well have it stamped between their eyes and where the sign on their back with answers to some of the only questions they will ever get asked by both locals and foreigners. Right under the sign that says "kick me", that the asshole taxi driver delivered with a pat on the back of new found friendship, after cheating you 5 cedis instead of 2.

The sign that remains a checklist of your visit to 'the beautiful country':

• I'm from Canada, no that's not in Holland.
• Sure, i guess the weather here is good for me.
• 6 months.
• Yes, i have gotten sick, and yes... I 'try' to pound the Fufu, laugh it off.

I've fallen victim of wearing my travellers shirt, but i really don't understand the purpose. I wanted to come to Ghana to understand the culture and really make myself a part of it, and i have... only so much of my thoughts have clearly been consumed with what's expected. The excpected homesickness, intestinal problems, skin change, travel wounds, anything really to make a mark that you were here. Just throw me in the nest barber shop to get my hair braided and i'll fit the part perfectly to go home.

I chose to experience what everyone else promised would happen, because it happened to them. A silly choice. I'm a different person, i have been for my entire life, and it's no exception for being somewhere new. I'm finding life in the death of my experience at Shekhina. It's a beautiful place with beautiful people and i can understand. But i have forced myself to be consumed by it for reasoning that everyone else was.

So, in this mixed up fashion of trying to conjure up some sense in explaining, i can get it now. I can find the death that's chasing me up the stairs and choose to leave it. I'm no longer expected of anything. I choose whatever i want to feel, and i'm sick of it being the norm. Because what's considered the norm, isn't. The norm is what you create for yourself, your own reasoning of where your at in your life, and how you choose to respond to something new. Sometimes change can suck and anyone who tells you it doesn't is lying. But the most important intrution of change is finding the adventure in it to strap you in for the ride. My ride has just been 4 months long, with a little bit of roller coaster sickness.

Despite it all- The coins remain in my pocket to buy 2 more months of tokens.