Assurgent Construction

Author's Note Five

Content

Mocking Bliss – Culture, Sorrowful

The Journey – My Foundation and Our History

Unjust Normality – Culture, the Norm That Should Not Be

Broken Glass – Insecurities, The Self

Reopened Wound – Culture, Family

Futile – Culture, Mother

Home Is with You – My Sun

Not an Island – Friendship

What is Time – The Self, Philosophy

To See and Know is Not Seeing – The One I've Always Wanted

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Culture – 4

My Foundation – 1

The Self – 2

My Sun – 1

The One I've Always Wanted – 1

Friendship – 1

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In a way, culture refers to all but one of these. These past ten poems have indicated my frustration with my family and the culture that I was raised in. When I read over these I can't help but think that if a relationship breaks apart because of something simple, it was never a strong relationship at all. My Sun and My Foundation, and my friends along with the few family members of mine... They communicate with me and they are willing to admit when they are wrong and willing to counsel me when I'm being arrogant or straying from my path.

The people who are meant to stay in one's life will which is why I can't help but wonder, why should I keep them in my life? Why can I not burn that bridge? When I came home from the Philippines they told me a few weeks before that my room was no longer my own, in truth it never was my room. It was my aunt's guest room that I so happened to sleep in. They were excited to tell me that my niece had moved in and we'd be sharing a room.

They've done this to me before. They've gone through my personal belongings and decided whether or not I was going to send something over to the Philippines. I intercepted a few items this time only because I was overseas to see the box and it infuriated me. Because of my family, I am not materialistic. Gifts, I cherish, because those are given to me but when it comes to my own personal belongings I only buy what I need and before I left for the Philippines I had moved between my own place, My Sun's, my sister's, and my aunt's house. For a week, I stayed with a different aunt. As the moves went on I slowly rid myself of what I didn't need.

Now, most of my belongings consist of paper. I'm trying to type them all up but the more I type up the more I want to write and the cycle is never ending. I value what is in my head more than what I can hold with my hands but if I created it, it is part of me and I can't help but keep it. The other set of belongings that I have are books. Books that I read and journals that I write and lose notes that I still can't bring myself to toss... These have no cash value but they are the parts of my heart written on paper that are proof that I have grown.

After my parents had called me and told me they put all of my belongings in the shed I called My Sun. I and I think I told My Foundation but I don't quite remember. Infuriated, I told My Sun about how my family had basically spat in my face again. They said 'when she is not here the room is yours' and I can't help but wonder, how I can live like that? How can I live going 'home' and being told after a long day or work that I don't have a place to stay?

There's the couch. That was the comment My Sun made when I got back but she didn't make the comment until I did because she knew it would upset me. I don't live on a couch. I can't be around people who are constantly going to judge me every waking moment or not waking moment. When I'm at the house I'm the one who is told to do whatever it is they need me to do. Move this and I may or may not pay you but you're family so why I would I?