Sailing my mind is the word colonized. In every sense of the word, I know I am colonized. Colonized to think and act like a powerless peasant, an objectified symbol for sexuality and incandescence, a radiating somatic shape, an unexplained apologetic slave. I’ve questioned the origins of my detail and every passing day I come to more conclusions about such word and its application. “You are woman, and I am mAn” say the blind. But the sailing word itself explains it all. Bred to believe in purpose and hope, we are so naive to the forces of the world. Colonization occurs as we stop ourselves from coming to terms with our identity and when the fear of being who we are wins the battle between thoughts of survival over victory. Embracing our root has been sold as poisonous. Why are we ashamed?
“Freedom”. What is freedom? Is it sailing through life as a servant of its forces? Is it wearing colors that represent a nationalized power and its unbalanced prevalence over all others? Is freedom the condition of choosing the circumstances of one’s survival over the notable choice that half of the world does not get to own when loosing their life? Is freedom the right to allow ourselves to believe that we somehow can control who we are and who we will become in this world? Will freedom keep standing unquestioned and undefeated even as we are all a product of colonization?’
The thoughts and questions sail and prevail as my mind digests its own colonization. As history was told to us in the name of the world, are we complacent to remain blind as the colonizers sail into their planned acquisition? We must remember that as they sailed into their victory, freedom sailed away from it.
“Sail away, sail away.”