The freedom of expression or the comfort of belonging?

Yesterday while I was taking a shower. This exact sentence rang in my head. 

“the freedom of expression, or the comfort of belonging”

I wondered if I’ve ever felt free enough when I belonged. Yet I find myself unfamiliar wherever I go. I don’t understand others’ strong feelings of loving the very country I’ve grown up in. My close friends feel too foreign from me, although I love them so much and really appreciate them. I don’t feel close enough to anyone around me. And those who share the same interests as I, feel far from who I am. 

Where do I belong? I wonder. If all I’ve ever felt like was “different”.. Who am I? If I am this foreign. 

Though, perhaps this lack of belonging gave me mixed emotions. Feeling close, relating to others, feel like a warm breeze. Yet, I feel more at peace not to follow. My diversity and contradictions helped shaping the face of me (or rather the faces of me).

While I long for the comfort of belonging, I find myself limited when it comes to expressing myself fully in an environment where judging others has been the norm for so long.

So I stand between two regions, right at the boarders between finding my comfort, and seeking my freedom. 

-Cicada, 251221, 16:22.