Where I'm From

I am from the Middle Class, who’s richer than the poor, but twice as angry at the world.

I am from Saint George’s Place, where an armchair rests in my Grandfather’s yard and a fence no higher than my knee keeps me safe from all my troubles.

I am from video games, where millions of pixels come together to form an image realer than life itself.

I am from baseball games, where the smell of the grass and a hint of peanuts take me back to the better days of now.

I’m from the world we know and the world I dream of.

Both of which are always out of my reach.

I am from the present, but I’m always called the future.

I am from politics, which holds an olive branch in one hand and a dagger behind its back.

I am from technology. Created to be superior, but soon becomes inferior.

I am from family, where judgments are made and quickly become irrelevant.

I am from humor, where offense and taboo lose all meaning with a single chuckle. Used as both an elixir for joy and a poison for spite.

I am from conformity, where existence is relative with so many alike.

I am from music, where expression is the vain of the old and the path of the new. My songs vary from the man next to me, who might not even exist with so many alike.

I am from nowhere while remaining in-between.

Where am I from? I’m from myself.