The diary of a smarty & that is not candy
Dear diary ( i guess you are really bored with all this silly talk so here it goes!)
YES THIS IS PART OF MY DIARY :D
The Lebanese dictionary for daily terms has different interpretations for the word "Different" .It might mean" alien, freak, walking plague, better back off, watch out, unleashed dog, etc...This is a fact and that made my life like hell as i was growing up in this racist country.
Being half Lebanese didn’t always have this brighter side people always talk about. When i was in elementary, i faced lots of problems dealing with this issue. The truth is I am not a 100% pure Pilipino nor PURE Lebanese .And that meant I didn’t practice Martial Arts ( which was cool like Jackie Chan), and didn’t acquire the same ordinary beliefs that the Lebanese do ( which I resent to be honest) Truthfully , I am so proud of being half-nonLebanese.
When I was in forth grade, I was in a school that I called "The School of the Brats", students or carbon copies of their mothers (who happen to be teachers in that same school) seem to have acquired a distorted picture about life and being simply different. Being the weird kid as they expressed it in plain Arabic, with Mongolian eyes as they called it was something too much for my Lebanese classmates to handle. I was really unlucky on my first day to be seated next to a spoilt rich brat whose mother also happened to teach in that school. When that girl knew that I was supposed to sit next to her she turned plain white stamped her feet and said ; " I am expected to sit next to this THING!
Sports wasn’t that easier believe me. When we were asked to join hands and make a circle, that same circle was always open on my side. It’s not like I didn’t like joining hand with anyone. But they simply thought I was contagious or a walking plague. So when the teacher would force them to hold hands with me, they would pull me from my sleeve and look at me in disgust.
Ok ! Now you too know why I hate Lebanon with all its faking citizens and why I am working on getting the hell out of here! Here only looks and how much you are loaded matters. So by the end of that year I grew so biter that i rarely smiled. I also found my salvation is music which is considered noise to others( metal and i learned to live and write dark poems . And now you know more about me than I know about moi!
As a conclusion, you don’t have to live under someone’s shoe. You are unique and you have to be proud of your origins. Being a mixture of two races made me see that I am extraordinary for I spoke two languages frequently. English Arabic and a little French. I didn’t struggle with English like others, and excelled in school. But most importantly you have to know who you truly are. You don’t have to fake it just to fit in! Live, express your identity and if people can’t handle what you simply are just know that between those billions of people out there some must click with you. You are great deal with it! enjoy
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