a stranger far from home

i lived in this small village in the very end of the world for eighteen years. i was born here. i have grown up here. i have made my first friends here, at school. in many ways, here i became what i am today. yet today i am a stranger here. i go to a public place and most people stare at me as if i am a newcomer, maybe as someone who changed so much that they can no longer recognize. and that is not due for my departure and pursuit of higher studies. i started to become a stranger in my last year living here - when i started to shape my personality. i started to like different things, to have different interests, to appreciate different companies. young people in small places are very closed. most of times, the only bond between them is a common interest. those who dare to assume their differences and live with them become pariahs, oucasts. strangers at their very home.