This light has always been here, we are all somebody from somewhere. The thought of it bewilders you. Once upon a time people came here, planted family trees in fertile soil. Soil that was ploughed every once in a while, together with the trees. You being born to someone inescapably meant there would be others. You and other people, united as long as thou shall live. The unquestionability that it has always been there, overwhelms you. Passing by the fields and the trees you see things no one else would notice except for those who have already been living there for years. “Everybody needs to live somewhere” somebody told you not long ago. Despite its simplicity and its obvious truthfulness, it still was astounding to realise what it meant.

You will never disappear, yet you will leave, arrive and come back now and then. You can repeat this as often as you want. There is no limit to the times you can come back home. There are no boundaries to leaving, coming back, arriving. Coming back to the place you were born somehow always results in arriving at the same place, time after time.

The thing is, coming back is what you always do to the same place, where you were born and raised too.

You can go to many different places. You can go as often as you want, thoughtlessly if the time that has been given to us on this world will allow it.

Coming back to the place you were born, you always do to the same place. There are no boundaries to how far you can go straight after. There is no limit to the times you can come back.



Text by: Menno van Winden.