In Austin, Texas

Jul 30, 2011 16:07

Not gonna lie. When I get on facebook and decide to waste my time looking at pictures of Nicaraguans I become indignant. I see these socially acceptable and socially prominent pairings-- such obvious choices of grooms and brides, such logical and practical sanctimonious unions between respectable last names and social positions-- and I get a little angry.

I get a little angry because I am certain that, now that everyone is of a marrying age, now that the family businesses have been passed on to the fertile offspring, I know that if I were in Nicaragua I would be excluded or placed on a sub-par tier of desirable mates. And I think to myself: fuck you! I wouldn't want to marry you, or you, or you ANYWAYS! You are all douches and stuck-up, boring, run-of-the-mill assholes without a single original bone in your body. You are a dime a dozen. You are a boring old chicken in a coop of chickens, completely typical and forgettable. You don't reject me, I reject YOU!

And still. Still I cringe and groan. I'll never escape them. For better or worse, they are a part of my history. They are a part of my culture and background. I'll never be free. I can run away and stay away from Nicaragua for as long as I like. I'll always be connected in one way or another. It will always make me anxious.
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