One thing I've realised, is that sorrow can make you very philosophical. (And Himay, that just means that I spout more bullshit than usual, and coat it with fancy words and my trademark sarcasm.)
I come from a place that has been dogged by poverty, gang-wars, sexism, religious issues, corruption and of course terrorism. Slumdog Millionaire does not tell the whole tale, but it darn well tells a good part of it. One of the many faces.
I live in a place that has 300 days of sunshine every year. There's bald eagles and squirrels and sprinklers and sand everywhere. 6-lane highways, wide open spaces, disney world. It really should be the American dream. Or the American-Indian dream; rather. Since at one point or the other, every Indian person dreams of living on this hallowed soil. It is a no-brainer, given what you just read above.
But there's a viciously ugly side to Uncle Sam. For most people, as soon as they land here, they're swiftly pigeon-holed into a sweepingly generalized box. Imagine a huge broom, tossing little ol' miniscule you into a dark place, and that is what you will spend the next 4 years of your life trying to wrestle out of.
We're sadists and hypocrites. Both of us. We may have strikingly different skin, we may have hugely different tolerance to ultra violet light, but that's about it. We're both constantly fighting stereotypes and generalizations, and then we settle comfortably into our respective mobs and proceed to whitewash the days' progress. Pakis, Blacks, Whites, Mexicans, Asians. We love to pin labels. Why not humans; for a change?
I cannot wait before I can get the fuck out of this hellhole, to a place that I feel comfortable at. Daytona Beach is certainly not it.
And that was your thought for today :)
Now I just realized how fucked I am with Integration :( I'm going to get pwn'd. Tudeles!