Do you ever, or have you ever watched the news and let the disasters of the world just flood in to your lounge room while you're having dinner?Wars, disasters, murders, rape, abductions, redemptions, scandals; all wrapped in succinct packages that aim to give you a sense of being informed about the disasters happening elsewhere.
Viewing entries in
A Different Kind
When I was young my parents tried to get me excited about their Catholic faith and largely, it worked.
#INEEDSAFESCHOOLS and so do you- please I ask you to show your support by showing your face!
Mejia- my last name which I've been both proud of at times and at others appalled by is an "Iberisation" of the Jewish name Messiah. After Queen Isabella The Catholic united the smaller kingdoms of Navarra, Catalonia and Aragon into what we now know as Spain she issued the Alhambra Decree where the Moors and Jews from her lands were forced to convert or flee.
You never think of your parents as human beings with lives lived, loves lost, moments treasured or, dreams and desires that don't involve you. Sure, everyone knows their parents had a life before they were born, if you're lucky you'll know about that life and if the fortunes favour you enough you will be the one burying your parents when their life ends and not the other way around.
It wasn't that bad, no I mean to say it wasn't all bad. It certainly wasn't all good but growing up wasn't all bad. Someone asked me recently: 'what would you go back and tell your 6 year old self?'
I once told someone that I live my life much like the Wizard in the Wizard of Oz. On the face of it, the Wizard is all powerful, all knowing, omnipotent and invincible but when you pull the curtain it's just a scared old guy that wants to go home.
I am in equal parts fascinated and repelled by people... actually, repelled isn't the right word...
My parents tried to kill me, not once but three times. Not metaphorically, but in a hands on kind of way. Not at the same time, and not both of them together but rather at separate times and on separate occasions.
The problem with being a migrant, if you could call it a problem I guess, is that once you decide to up and leave you become a person from nowhere. Doesn't matter where you were born, it does not matter where you are going, or for how long you are gone.