I’ve always had this fear of voicing my feelings out loud. Probably because when I have done that, I am confronted with glares and this overwhelming feeling I just screwed up! Many might attribute my fear of sharing a cultural one, seeing that my ancestry has its placement among very male-toned, male-sided, and male-ish ways.
I grew up in a house of four, my parents and my sibling rival. But being in USA didn’t really digest well until I got older. My parents integrated quickly. They learned the language English and adapted to changing views, still holding sturdy unto their conservative ways. It crashed. A Lawsuit came our way, hitting the entire family with atomic tension, like the tense pressure of gasses that consume a star and its explosion in the galaxy. My parents to dream of a life in middle-class came to a screeching halt. I won’t go into detail. We just started spiraling downward into deep anguish and sadness.
You can check off, making money off the bucket list, so we felt. Now, what was next on our list by the way? What else did we have planned as new members of the USA? Hmmm… It took speculation, but a-hah! An idea bloomed among the thorny shades of grey. Just exist so my family thought. Just publish, write poems, and sing-alongs, give that out to anyone curious, and hope to gain something back in return, maybe serenity, peace, or a dream home.
We literally, or metaphysically? Just kidding, we had moments when we had income, but that lasted for a short three to four years until the funds began sizzling away, like a pot with boiling water that completely evaporates and nothing is left in the pot, but residue or what was once water. So our money bank just dropped or sank deeply, into the negatives, as one failed business upturned our stakes in the USA, as did another! Every entrepreneurial spirit my dad had dropped off like burdens he carried. Perhaps it was meant to be.
Watching all this as a kid, I felt very betrayed by my own country. My immigrant parents were shown a rose-colored glass of limitless opportunities they could salvage in as welcomed citizens of America. However, they were met with unrelenting challenge! Researchers conclude the poverty among immigrants left and right and ask what the cause is or have their own conclusions. Being right in the smack of it, it really is the lack of experience an immigrant has of the terrain they are about to embark on. America is the wild west despite its towering buildings and posh cafes and bistros. America itself is a sharks mouth, gaping wide open, apathetic to who enters in with sheer ignorance. My parents and countless others, titled “minority” have most likely fallen prey to the buzzing and trendy pace of NYC, the Stanley Kubrick films that touch even the farthest nations, and Disney’s profound message to families afar that America is a land of milk and honey…
Curiosity killed the cat. Cats have flown from Bangkok to San Francisco, to start a new life, with resources, money, and good luck. The cats have gone in unknown directions. Some straightway into the lions den, utterly confused, others up the hill, into a peaceful and quiet existence… While the rest of the cats, striped, hairy, and balding, have found themselves strewn about this giant country, but fixed in the utter edges of America, ready to fall over the brim.
What lay in the middle of America? The cat has little curiosity after the barriers that they have found to really exist. In the abroad, you want to test yourself, your tenacity, your fight, and you want to fearlessly jump head first into the shark infested waters, that is America and believe that you will come out a survivor. Many stubborn and ill cats have tried, few have made it, but most have died, be it emotionally dead.
America is all about reading the fine print, understanding the odds, and competing with vivacious violence, sugar-coated with niceness and empathy, yet toxically maddened. And so, the majority pops “avoid” the minorities simply because of the toxic nature the minor-class just develops overseas. The cats bring disease, attitude, servitude, whatever they bring, it just ain’t fit for us Americans! That is the usual spiked wire every minority must face and endure.
So last stop, freedom, so the cats thought, a dark, sinister, ghost….instead awaited each and every single