Nous passons de l'état "émigrant" de là d'où nous venons, à l'état "immigré", là où on atterrit.
C'est drôle la vie.
Cela me rappelle James Douglas Morrison :
"People are strange when you're a stranger
Faces look ugly when you're alone
Women seem wicked when you're unwanted
Streets are uneven when you're down
When you're strange
Faces come out of the rain
When you're strange
No one remembers your name
When you're strange "
