(untitled)
I don’t really know how I think. Sometimes I think I know, sometimes I identify myself as something or other, and then find some contradiction in my definition of how I think, at which point I scrap it all and define it as merely ‘undefined.’
As much as I’d like to, I probably will never be able to disassociate myself with the culture of my heritage. There’s just something about me and the way I identify myself that doesn’t allow me to do that. It’s not something I can understand, because the basis for this identification is something that we, as Americans, as a Western society, have decided is ridiculous and unreasonable: association of identity with heritage.
With sentiments such as ‘Why charge the son with the sins of the father?’
Individualism can only truly exist with disassociation. At the same time, you have to admit: no one is truly free.