I Am From Nowhere

I am from nowhere. I had no birth and I expect no death. For how am I supposed to die, if I never truly lived? But what does it mean to live? I, in my flesh and blood state, wandered through my days mindlessly pursuing what any other person of flesh and blood pursues. I wanted it all. I wanted the classic american dream lined with that white picket fence that I saw as the benchmark of success set by those above me. I worked so I could go to school. I went to school so that I could work. I wanted to work, yes, but not like I did before. I wanted an easier profession, one that was easier on my physical body and mind. I did not want to watch it erode away with the years of physical labor as my parents' had before me. I wanted to keep both my physical body and mind intact. In the pursuit of this falsehood I instead ruined my existence.

I worked with my body, and absorbed the world with my mind. I had ambition, and the hope that I could be better. I had the hope that I could set a better example for my people. I wanted them to see that if I could have that white picket fence, that they too could overcome our hardship and that our next generation wouldn't have to live breaking their bones for their nourishment. I wanted them to be inspired to be better. I wanted them to see that it was possible to sit at the table, and to direct their own faith. At my attempt, all I heard were the prayers from my own people for me to trip and fall. They couldn't wait for the opportunity tear me down for they were ignorant and comfortable with their pain. They knew nothing else, and they for some reason didn't share my ambition for improvement. They had been broken to the point that any energy contributed to such cause was seen as a waste and honestly stupid. Regardless of their prayers, I carried forward for them. I believed that there was still hope for us to be better. Thinking that if could beat all the odds, even those imposed by my own, that I could inspire some feeling back into their tired and pained souls. I was a fool to think I could be the beacon of bliss that they weren't looking for.

For them I worked, I starved, and ruined my humanity. Those days went by in a daze. I did what I could because I wanted something better for them. I gave up the little chance I had to live for them. For being in the presence of the enemy, I became the traitor. For being from my people the enemy resented my hope. They though they had taken the last bits of it from my people, so they made sure to do what they could to take it. Once I achieved what I thought could be inspiration for my people, it had been too late for me to undue the shame I brought them for not fitting their image. For wanting something better, I was traitor. To them, better was being like the enemy, and to the enemy being better meant that I was a threat to their frail system of subordination.

If I could have been comfortable with own my pain, I wouldn't have exerted myself as much as I did to overcome it. I wouldn't have realized how the pain of my people would never be lifted. I would've stayed home, and perhaps learned the true meaning of living or at least known one with less suffering. Instead I went out, and destroyed my heart to the point of irreversible damage. They scared my mind and took the little hope I had left. If I stayed, they wouldn't have singed my eyes with the disturbing truth, and perhaps I would have kept my teeth. If I had stayed, I too may have become comfortable with my pain. If I had stayed, I would have been accepted for my ignorance and obedience. Instead I became a traitor to my people, and never accepted by those who I had tried to become. So I sit here, with no real fragments of what makes a home, nowhere to go for comfort, and with greater pain from the disfigurement of my existence.

That is why, I renounced my physical existence, and live within the limitless embodiment of my mind. Though it is dark and lonely, I find some comfort with the shadows of my loved ones. For it is only in my mind that I can bend my thoughts to create the world I dreamed of. The one that I worked to change. One in which gritty, hard work pays off like they promised. One in which pain serves as a lesson and not an existence. In this world people are not numbers or objects of pleasure for others. In this world we do not give false hope or use it as bait to toy with the lives of those beneath us. Ignorance in this world, is not the way to peace. In this world, they forgave me for my abandonment. They didn't label me mad, and rewarded me for bravery. I did what I sought out to do, and in this world I found the peace that I fabricated.

This world, believe me, is not perfect either. It is far from it, for it is only a malformed child of the one out there. The only thing that makes this world different, is that it doesn't exist for them to take from me. They cannot take, what they don't see. In this world I do not have to hide. In this world I do not have to pretend peace with the enemy. In this world my mistakes, are just that... mistakes. I don't have to carry them where I go, nor am I embarrassed of them. Here I only live with the what if's of my reality. In this world, my world, I am from nowhere.