The Language of Your Fathers | Soft Punk Magazine

At some point towards the end of 2019 I became overwhelmed by the feeling that my life had reached an impasse. Personal and professional turmoil left me even more precarious and unmoored from my immediate social surroundings than I’d been before; the life I had tried so hard to construct for myself seemed to be slowly crumbling around me. I was in my early 30s, listless and unsatisfied. Many of my generation are. Yet, most have a stability that comes with both learned as well as inherited cultural capital, a familial anchor that keeps them from floating too far. I’d often wish for such anchors myself. Maybe this is why I began to feel the loss of home more acutely than ever, however distant that home now felt. I’d feel the pull in the most unlikely situations. Talking to friends after work at the pub, I’d be struck by memories of home, and the smell of stale beer on sticky floors would bring back vivid memories of my youth; the drop of rain on my skin reminding me of days and nights sp

At some point towards the end of 2019 I became overwhelmed by the feeling that my life had reached an impasse. Personal and professional turmoil left me even more precarious and unmoored from my immediate social surroundings than I’d been before; the life I had tried so hard to construct for myself seemed to be slowly crumbling around me. I was in my early 30s, listless and unsatisfied. Many of my generation are. Yet, most have a stability that comes with both learned as well as inherited cultural capital, a familial anchor that keeps them from floating too far. I’d often wish for such anchors