papirfugl

Not you

So, what are you, then? You’re not what you were or what you’ll be. You’re not what you know. You’re not your face, your skin, your sex. You’re definitely not your country. You’re not your parents, nor your friends, nor the places that you’ve been. The books you’ve read and words you’ve said mean nothing,

hopefully. You’re nothing 
less than present, here. 
Asking,
hopefully.