At every given point in time, we live in two worlds.
The one we inhabit and the one we’d like to.
The two worlds also reside within us.

They lie in our decisions and indecision.
Between desire and duty.
A space we negotiate in sweet pain and often, with smiling sorrow.
They meet inside us,
Probably greet one another and then make their own way where you do.

The dichotomy runs so deep,
It takes you down into the depths of despair, then curiosity, then realization.

Writing cathartically is the descent into those depths.
Every time a question, tucked loosely into a rant, emerges, you’ve turned a corner.
And then, knowing you’re somewhere in between is all the clarity you need.
It’s all the clarity you need.

But this “somewhere-in-between” is a hard place to be.
It’s also soft.
Because it’s a dichotomy. Duh.

We are born into the worlds, the families, the systems, the opportunities that determine who we are before we’ve done a thing in life.
Our baby selves already have identities.
They have privileges. They have platforms.
They have a place to go, a person to be, possibilities and prospects.

‘Potential’ could be that game changing differentiator.
But it rarely ever gets recognized as it should.
The ones born into less fight or simply don’t because they don’t know that they have anything worth fighting for – talent, capability, potential.

One day, you wake up, and suddenly after all that searching,
You realize you aren’t as deserving of your birth, of your place, of your world.
Mayhem in your mind.
Madness in your heart.
How will you ever bridge the gap?

The gap was always there.
The bridge is inside you.
You can sit in your world, looking pretty, with your limited potential, in a boringly satisfied state.
Or you can go out into that other world,
And create opportunities where there are none, plant a fairy tale where there hasn’t thus far been basic privilege, build a platform where the ground was too low to begin with, where the grass is waiting to get greener.

You are both worlds in one.
Perhaps the world you’re born into is a passage to extend that privilege.
The dichotomy doesn’t go away.
The guilt does not vanish.
But a bridge once built, stays.
It stays.
And it enables us all to play – lifted and squared.




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