I always wondered what it was like to be of my race. A very strange thing to say about oneself, but it just seems as though I am wearing someone else’s skin. Most of us have been killed or bred out and it seems as though we had our own culture at one point or another. Why else would everyone have ill feelings towards us?
Fair skin, pointed ears, almond eyesâ; we all look the same. But it is as though we were all raised by others. We don’t have the same opinions, metaphors, beliefs and taste in food/clothing/entertainment or even virtues. We are one yet all different peoples. Is this how it is for every race of the world? I didn’t put much thought to it until I was left out of several events. The ball, for one, was an event I was looking forward to all year round. It happens during the winter solstice and I was hand-making my gown. I suppose everyone assumed I was a seamstress for a well off noble or something of the sort, because when I awaited my invitation in the mail it never came. Heart broken and infuriated the only thing I could think of when I gazed upon my lovely gown of gems and silk was hatred. When I asked my neighbors if they received theirs, they passed it off as if the mail was just delayed for me. But the look in their eyes told me differently. They knew that I wasn’t to be invited.
You would figure that a nation such as Kanada wouldn’t condone such behavior, but it seems as though I stand corrected. They prance around in their fancy clothing and treat everyone as though they sit in ranks of a militia. The higher the rank, the more privy you are to events and the like. The lower, the less you know. How ignorant! To think that I stand up for a nation I love and believe in so much as to let them treat me as if I were worth nothing. I see how they look at me, jealousy crossing their eyes like a mutt watching a family eating dinner in their nice warm home on a rainy day. Longing and envy.
What was it that made my people become this way? Was it about all of this? Was this hatred, jealousy, envy run through everyones’ blood but our own? Why are we so ignorant to the old ways? To just throw away the past as if it didn’t exist and pick up somewhere new; to relearn what we knew from birth and pass on new traditions to our children! how sickening.
I wonder if there are others out there wondering the same things as I am. Or if I am in a world of my own, daydreaming of impossible things.