Words
They seem to find their way through my mind into my ears, out through my heart, and trickles through my finger on these pages for you just to be able to read and tell your friends about my life who am, yet to sit here and pretend like my life and my existence has not been great in it’s very essence, since my arrival in this country. It’s taught me valuable lessons like how to not give a fuck, about other people and their problems while being the center of attention for all the people coming in with problems. Happy medium found somewhere there in between all this heartache and stress, the kitchen doesn’t quite have the ingredients that I want. It’s cluttered with the memories of the people from the past. I am just a new addition to a household that has already been built. I feel like an outcast. I worry that i’ll be the point of someone’s aggression someday and they’ll carry those aggressions out onto my face. The fear of being ugly is very real for me. It’s not like while I was beautiful. I enjoyed it much.
Was Jesus the first to be born with absolute beauty?
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