The very first time feels like this: uh, he doesn't look Chinese....
And then there is a pause. My mind becomes aware of itself as some invisible wall bends and shatters. My own mind, hiding entire rooms from myself; this room didn't exist before, or was I just unaware?
After the first revelation, the room vanishes (poof) as quickly as it revealed itself.
I'm no longer surrounded by, "_____" people. I'm just surrounded by people. Every stereotype of physical features is made obsolete as the curves and edges of human forms become sharp realities. Recognition occurs.
Perhaps, in stating this, I betray some hidden facet of racism-- though I do not perceive myself as such.
Perhaps then, I merely examine the obvious.
The word, "_____" has not simply undergone a change in meaning, nor has it shifted weight within my vocabulary;"_____" appears to have fallen out of my lexicon as a whole. The letters form a sound I can't pronounce.
is that word...
That isn't quite right
What a bizarre phenomenon.
This morning, the sky was clear blue. There were tufts of white flattened against the blue, sprawled out like cotton balls, unrolled by the fingers of some playful child. I marveled at the sight from my bedroom window. And then again, as I headed through my garden toward the Taxi bay. I stared at the sky, almost unable to look any other direction. Treasure the moment when color breaks my morning to me.
At last I peel my eyes back to earth, flinging myself to the right so as to not trample...
Hang on, his features aren't the same.
He gives himself new depth, so distinctly himself.
I give him new depth?
I see clouds, and blue sky, and people. And suddenly, I am so aware of my "western" ways.
Because I am strange to everyone around me, I am strange to myself.
Q: "I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore..."
Hint: Dorothy is not strange because OZ isn't Kansas. Dorothy is strange because Kansas isn't OZ.