I've cheated myself like i knew i would

So as i wandered the streets today after writing six hours straight through a german exam ...poems. Fun stuff. Not. It's exile literature, bitter german exile literature about Nazis and brown and red and comunism and coming "home" and not knowing what home is and even though i wish i could put it off as "oh well.that stuff again!", i can't. Because honestly this country kind of does feel like exile - maybe not as much in the geographical way even though i feel a lot more home-y in britain, but certainly in the ways of not feeling grounded here. Not connected. Maybe it's my young age, maybe this feeling really just blooms once you're older. Yet, it's a rough feeling having to fight through the experiences of somebody else, who is already dead, who had to flee from the Nazis, lose his family, getting tortured, was forbidden to write, all those horrid things and all the way through feeling like you've been there.
Which is an absolutely idiotic feeling. I'm not a refugee, i'm not homeless. I'm not even house-less. Which is probably a lot less worse than feeling like you don't have a home.

Thing is, i don't feel like this is my mothercountry. In german "mother country" is "father country" if you translate it.A "father country" it might be. Something strong, with big history and the harshness of a dude. A mother country? It most definately isn't.

It's not my language. Even though i've got no issues to write 21 full pages for a german essay exam. Even though i love debating and i usualy win because i know how  to use it. Even though i still make the oddest mistakes with the english language. Even though i'll never get a straight A in my english class simply because.
It's just not. Right now i'm sitting here thinking in English, it's not like i'm sat here thinking about what to write and then translating what i wanna say. I'm typing all the way. I barely stop in between. Cause the thoughts are in my head. They're there. In English.

Maybe i've spoiled myself into this. I might just have , thinking that speaking english might just be a little more cool and a little more different and whatever, mysterious even. It probably was that in the beginning. But did i chose this language? I doubt it. I've never had good grades in my english classes ( let's face it. I sucked and failed and sucked even more. ). I remember my first time in London, a two weeks stay bumming around town not knowing what to do. A relative had taken me to give my mum some time off. I didn't talk. At all. I didn't know how to either so i just didn't.
I felt isolated and wrong and disturbing the piece of this lovely town.

It's basically how i feel here. There's a MAC counter downtown now in one of the bigger malls ( they're not really malls. They're fake malls. Kinda. Germans don't like malls, they're too American. And nobody wants to be too american, do they? ).
I've never gone in, it's not a question of cash, really. But everytime i've been to a MAC counter in the past i spoke english. Is that weird? I guess so. So i wanna go in and be like "eya, i need like a foundation and powder? like mixed y'know? I've got a concealer already but i think it's too dark, i guess? I need summat really light aswell.".
There's no other way to do it.

I'm odd, i'm well aware. I just think that this feeling of abondenness inside me isn't so much and only about myself but the  direction i've taken. It's me saying pub rather than the german equivalent. It's getting hit on by british people in the clubs rather then the german ones. It's all those tiny things making it hard for me to feel like this is my momma-country.