4/11/18 6:55PM
I hate that I don’t know my history... I hate that I can’t find a part of who I am.
My history was taken away from me before I even existed, and I had no say so.
I try to find meaning and worth in the things that I do, but I don’t know how.
I can’t find it, I don’t know where it is or where to go.
When I try and dedicate something I do to something important to me, it’s hard.
I don’t know why i’m doing what i’m doing... there is no significant reason.
I know the truth and the truth has no need for proving why it true, it has no need for justification
Truth justifies itself.
But me... how do I find me
How do I find why I do the things that I do... it’ll give my life a bit more meaning.
I hate that my history was stripped away from me, and I can’t take it back.
Generation after generation we lose who we are, that is only if you don’t know who you are to begin with.
I see people celebrating their history, expressing themselves through the knowledge of their ancestors
They know these things because they were taught these things, they’ve had their history since their history began... but I don’t
I long to know who I am, and who I belong to. I’m searching for this spiritual connection that will verify my existence.
It’s like searching for a ghost, it’s there but I cannot see it.
Cut off my hair why don’t you... cut off my heritage
Expunge my language... rid of my culture
Divide my people... erase my blood
My people are walking around each other, not knowing their own blood and kindred.
Our souls have been disconnected... our spiritual connection has been demolished.
400 years later, we don’t even know who we are
Our ancestors are like the dust in the wind... unidentifiable, unknown.
Our peoples blood cries out from the ground... cover it up with pretty buildings and clothing stores
We’ll never know the difference
I feel a spiritual connection, but to whom and where?!
Where can I find you, where are you wanting to lead me... I don’t know.
The records have been thrown into the fire, hung on a tree, stolen, demolished
Their is no record... and if so it only goes back 400 years, if you’re lucky.
But what about before then... where were your people a millennium or two ago... huh?!
You don’t know... and neither do I.
How do I find it... where do I go
When the roads are covered up
And with no path to follow.
