Life seems, to most us, a monotonous system where one believes in a certain way of making a living or following a specific routine that has been set and travelled before. The system consists of being born and religiously raised to follow certain oppressive means of living and making it in life. Amongst a generation, born is a gene, amid the rational ones, who believes that climbing the same train that has rotated and still rotates in the destinations that are deemed to be of efficiency or of the “qualified,” is somewhat adamant to what she believes in. that gene doesn’t only exist in myself, but abides in most of us. Fear sometimes skips a generation, but in times that we live in, it is imposed and lives in every generation. The other imposes it then it transforms to be self-imposed fear. Courage , however, does not find comfort than fear does in such minds, for it is not a quality that religiously lives in the life of a black man, as it is considered a danger zon
I have a mother, which is a precious encounter that one still has on this earth. She has slept in hospitals as if it was my first home and woke up beside me; make sure that I am still exchanging life with air. In her life, she is known to be the one responsible for taking care of the household, the cleaning, the children, the cooking. She is the sweeping hands in almost everything. Most of us can relate that to our mothers or yourself as a mother. I wonder if one ever wondered whether they ever dreamt of being a mother or becoming the hands that sweep. As a young girl, most of us, play with dolls and emulate being a mother to a model of a human being, specifically, a baby or young woman. However, it subconsciously sticks to your mind throughout your teenage years to your adulthood where one is in a time where they consciously think of family, when it is just a subconscious reminder of caressing dolls. It sometimes brings out the child in you although the child in you cannot take car