Cultural Assimilation


Words expressed from a foreign smile, you smile back, lost in the unfamiliar.

Awed by its pristine wonder, you can’t help but be captivated by the sounds, complex and illusive, drawing you in like an old friend you haven’t seen in a very long time.

You sit down at the table, the fire place burns merrily, as you remember the familiar.

But it passes, it creeps, it crawls and in it’s silence slowly you begin to feel irate.

That once illustrious depiction of golden domes and homely hearths turns to white noise.

An unbearable degree of ignorance presses against your chest, a frustration of the inevitable and at the same time the complication of misunderstanding, you are alone, you are different, you are fresh.

But it passes from day to day and you slowly try to assimilate, holding onto the past and giving into the future. A constant tug. Back, forth. An unexpressed conflict.

And eventually it gets better, easing this pressure of ignorance. You start to remember and those words you once could never hear start to tickle instead of numb.

You start to laugh, to smile. You start to understand and it begins to feel like semblance has been found.

And then you place your hands upon a wall, a solid existence of matter that makes no apology for it’s being nor it’s purpose.

It simply is.

So you struggle and bash, you demolish, gnashing your teeth at the injustice of it all. And then you start again,


hoping to assimilate,

hoping you can find a truth deeper than words,

hoping you can find her,

hoping you can understand.


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