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Thursday, 31 March 2016
A citizen of no place any more than where he found himself he was yet never entirely at home. If he were to travel to a different city most of this breach in identity might be resolved, the distance between his home territory and this other place providing a sufficient space to account for all the felt displacements. The only danger in such a case would arise from an encounter with someone from his home-town who would prove him to be a kind of impostor, at least in the sense that he welcomed the presumption by others that if he seemed not to belong here it was only because he truly belonged somewhere else. All of this pointed to the fragility of belonging. To belong is to believe that one is accepted as belonging by those who truly belong and to feel no incongruity between their believed acceptance and one's own sense of place. Or something like that, at any rate the sort of redoubled balancing act which can be collapsed by the smallest sliver of doubt. Even to have attempted to analyse belonging was enough of a doubt when it was not the sense of belonging that called for explanation but its negation. Indeed belonging and not belonging succeeded and comprised each other like layers of skin.
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