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Try as I Might

I think I have only been alive for approximately ten weeks of my life. Ten weeks full of bliss .  Ten weeks of living in Elsewhere Cities . During those ten weeks, I was never pressured to be anyone else. I never had to perform.  All of my suppressed selves existed without fear, restraint, or hesitance. There was no need to create a façade to blend in, to be accepted by the mass, to be normal . My quirks, my wants, my needs never slipped into the cracks forgotten into the abyss titled unimportant and irrelevant. No other period in my life has ever seen me being myself the most than those weeks. Everything that was deemed weird, distasteful, different  about me was accepted without questions or judgement or prejudice; even if everything that I was screamed foreign. Because I was . But I was not perceived and labeled as something  foreign. No prejudice or preconceived notion of my personality and how I was supposed  to behave. No script to be received and followed...

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