when you were born, as I felt overwhelmed with love and tears rolled down my cheeks,
I realized one thing …life.
Through the legends and the words of my land, I felt their hate, I became aware of them, of those other lands, of the injustice inflected upon us.
Through their love of beauty I aspired to reach their goals.
One fate-full day I left running, leaving all that behind, and a family sick worried about me.
I went to those foreign lands that our narrators of yore tell about in our mother tongue.
I saw those places, now long traversed; now being traversed …
Little by little, as I saw and lived amongst those people my folk and kindred so ill spoke of, I began to see their dreams along the dreams of the land of my birth.
In the along I questioned my origins and the very voices that gave me an identity. I wondered out loud whether I was who my people said I was. (Was my mind freed?)
For every sojourn I undertook: left behind was the time I spent there; in return my luggage was heavy with memories of theirs, remembering how for a while I was one of them.
People too, wondered: whence cometh I ?, so many times, that I lost myself and began seeing me as much as they did.
(To the contrary) In an effort to recuperate a sense of being I became more like my ancestors: I lived like I thought they lived just to exercise how they were; how I used to be; how I am.
( Nowadays, it seems at times) All I have left is my one and only remaning value anyone can associate itself with me: life.