My Life On Postcards

National Identity

Dear Rene, One morning after an endless night of strange dreams about an airplane flying around the world , desperately looking for a place to land but never finding one, I finally woke up wondering where I was. Later, in the shower, while counting the tiles on the wall, still somewhat confused, I thought about my national identity and the effect it might have on my identity. I asked myself if my geographical place of birth is a required part of my identity or if it merely helped to me to form an identity until I was old enough to let go of this bizarre attachment, to be myself without the luggage that had been given to me when I was born there by pour chance. Staying in the air might not be such a bad idea after all, unless I run out of kerosene.