Have been reading quite a bit on exiles (more on that later), but it does remind me of my own sense of exile. Exile can be locational, situational or just a sense of being out of place.
In my case the sense of exile comes from a yearning for what I have lost. I do hope that I don’t ever have Alzheimers, I do want to remember every single thing that I loved (and lost).
When the times comes, that for me shall be my “completion”, (and) that for me shall be a life lived.
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