The old homeland, the old city - just to gaze at it from afar is to feel a flush of joy. Even when its hills and mounds are a tangle of weeds and brush, and nine out of ten of the ones you knew have gone to lie under them, still you feel joyful. How much more so, then, when you see those you used to see, when you hear the voices you used to hear - they stand out like eighty-foot towers among the crowd.Regardless of who you are -- whether you happen to be autistic or not -- most people like the familiar. We like that old pair of jeans that feels like an extension of our skin. We like to hang out with those who really know who we are and accept us for who we are.
~ Burton Watson translation ~
Still, it often is very difficult to go home again.
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