Dance

I don't belong to their world, although they think I do.

I don't belong to their world, although they think I do.

The reality is that I don't belong to this world. My culture is a mosaic, a collection of fragments. I don't belong to one, or none. I belong to all, except some. I define who I am, slowly, and I am not always correct. Sometimes I am the opposite of what I say I am. Sometimes I underestimate myself. But most of the time, I am changing.

We are all beings, moving in this world. Some with purpose, some without. Some with meaning, and some in delusion.

The piano plays the music. We all dance in our own way. Some follow steps of others, some create their own, some are offbeat, and some believe they have the option of not dancing.

I say dance to the beat that creates beauty.