Segregation in language

So I have been working in the US for several months.

As an outsider, I think the treatment of stranger/immigrant in USA is somehow peculiar. I feel that when you’re an immigrant here and you possess none WASP traits, you will never be a part of this nation. After 20 years in a country in an age of planes, Internet, global trades, you are for sure a new citizen of that nation. There is no way you can relate anymore to your country. I have been away from my home city for more or less 5 years and it doesn’t feel like home anymore. Things, stuff, buildings, stores, trends, people move at a uncontrollable pace.

I think that you can loose your identity even quicker in cities, but more on that later.

I once read you know when you immigrated to a new country when the commoner of your native country asks you where you’re from. Then you live in that weird place where you don’t belong anywhere.

I feel that on a daily basis, it’s part of my life now. Impossible to explain to friends. It’s the price to pay to be away, travel.

Back to America, I met Mexicans that have been here for 15 years and are still Mexicans. For me it’s a non-sense, maybe I have been in an inclusive society all my life.

Black people, Jesus, some of them have been longer in the country than what they call a pure race American.

At some point, with the riots, protest, King, the Black Panthers, they had to do something about it. Instead, they put the separation in the mainstream language, Afro-Americans.

A testimony through time

Have you ever had the chance to be molded through time by someone else?

Anything really.

An ever fascinating thing for me in this life is the legacy I would leave when my time comes. I always wondered what will remain through time of me. And bare with me, I’m not looking to get something.

It took me a while to write down these exactly for this reason. I don’t wish to leave remains and especially easy remains like a blog.

Life is a contradiction plus I don’t care.

The writer wants to be read anyway, by an audience or by their time changed oneself. The true purpose of writing.

Two months ago, I decided with some alcohol in my blood to donate a fair amount of money for a Kickstarter. The band needed money to record their new album. Yesterday, I received a message from one of the members that they were really thankful of the generous donation and that they were ready to give me my price.

I paid myself a personalize song.

Think about the most prestigious talk show you know, everybody have situated themselves getting into the seat of the interviewed. That’s about how I feel.