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We are not born with hatred swirling around in our skull It is something that is built within the structures of our environments This civil war whose bombs wake us up in the morning and whose grenades disturb our sleep. We are not born with fatass/faggot/nigger/spic/dyke/slut on our tongues This is the product of this billboard society that teaches us to spit daggers rather slip our tongues around and caress We are not born in fear of the other It is not genetics that implore us to engage in the ongoing battles between      fat and skinny      black and white      religious and faithless straight and curved Our world is a wasteland filled with our soulless cardboard cutouts doing nothing more than occupying space. We examine our fingertips in search of identity and are shown skin that has been scrubbed smooth by the buffers created to stop our minds from expanding too wide and our dreams from growing too big. We look to the too-distant stars for directions but must turn to a foreign map to tell us where home is. What we are born with is excitement. With adventure running through our veins. With eyes the color of flawless wonder and skin scarred with wisdom. We were born with longing. Longing for a great escape. For rebirth.
0
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 8:47 PM UTC
Rebirth
We are not born with hatred swirling around in our skull It is something that is built within the structures of our environments This civil war whose bombs wake us up in the morning and whose grenades disturb our sleep. We are not born with fatass/faggot/nigger/spic/dyke/slut on our tongues This is the product of this billboard society that teaches us to spit daggers rather slip our tongues around and caress We are not born in fear of the other It is not genetics that implore us to engage in the ongoing battles between      fat and skinny      black and white      religious and faithless straight and curved Our world is a wasteland filled with our soulless cardboard cutouts doing nothing more than occupying space. We examine our fingertips in search of identity and are shown skin that has been scrubbed smooth by the buffers created to stop our minds from expanding too wide and our dreams from growing too big. We look to the too-distant stars for directions but must turn to a foreign map to tell us where home is. What we are born with is excitement. With adventure running through our veins. With eyes the color of flawless wonder and skin scarred with wisdom. We were born with longing. Longing for a great escape. For rebirth.
eric-reiter-1
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May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 8:47 PM UTC
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