The History of You

Think about who you are. Think about where you come from, and then think about me. I cannot fully understand my culture. I cannot go back to my homeland. I cannot speak my own language. I cannot understand yours. I cannot be who I am without knowing where I am from or understanding my roots. I can only be a subject to my current state; living in a place that doesn’t actually want me here.

For weeks now, I have been bombarded with a lot of knowledge about who I am, who I want to be and who I am not. Sometimes it is overwhelming and sometimes, it’s inspiring. I can’t even begin to explain how much my heart has opened up to this everlasting change and growth. My life is being held in the perspective of more than just me now and its liberating. It makes me want to understand the deeper tones of myself and figure out exactly what it is that makes me who I am. It might be discouraging that I have to tunnel deep into my past, just to find out that dirt covers all of who I was or who I was supposed to be. I have no idea where to begin. I’ve just been following my heart and letting my eyes and my ears guide me deeper into who I am. So, I’ve been listening to what my heart is telling me, what my eyes are seeing and what my mouth sometimes speaks of; determination, self-confidence and love.

I aspire to be an agent of change. I want to understand a means of the world in every form so I can make it better and other people can maybe take my hand and help me along the way. And I can talk about how my people are being oppressed everyday and killed, but what I can’t talk about is my home, my culture or what I believe in. I can only dream of lands built on top of gold, covered in diamonds and filled with beautiful people who look just like me.

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