Interdependency being the goal OR
Perception defining the reality

Not a tomboy, not quite the girl next door, not your hot chick and definitely not a simple quiet girl

Not my make up, not my hair, not so much even to claim a natural beauty

This or that got to pick a side
Wall street or main street, or just a street in fact

hour-glass, ticking bomb… quick profit- hurry now it’s up for grabs!

Politics or development or rather, rebel for both or against

Tibetan or American or perhaps even a bit Indian and Nepali or maybe even African American- No- perhaps Japanese or Filipina from Hawaii?

Raw, beautiful, pretty, cute, no-no I know “exotic” ooooooh different

From the land of the snowy utopia?

Oh idealist, democratic, socialist, no no activist?

This or that maybe even both or maybe Neither but certainly something?

DECONSTRUCT-

colonialism, nationalism, feminism, individualism, liberalism, ismmmmmmmms humanism?

Post me in your dictionary

Again and again bring on the terms

Pick a name, categorize me, place me in an order, label me with a tag line, prioritize me with your needs and then Define my character according to your “intelligence”

QUICK-

I too will be your study, all with history, so dot me up and place me in the line

Benefit from my existence to uplift your position

Wisdom or ignorance – OR OR OR this or that stay on one side- force a choice

Share your data: Statistics can satisfy your need

Quantify my worth and sell my identity

Binary divisions do not solve anything it does not work for me, I will not choose a side, I do not have one identity, importance of my rights cannot me measured and my experiences of inferiority will not be the same as yours-

Succeed only in Satisfying your thirst to feel you have served some knowledge

Your purpose for me

No validation will be concluded on my side. You may do as you wish with my story but I have felt it always in others’ terms

POINTLESS!

I KNOW!!!! How about an example?

Still I rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like tear drops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Maya Angelou