Identity

I encountered a rush of familiarity during GP class. Something warm, something that made my adrenalin sprint. Prejudice. Social divides. Like literature class. My thoughts wouldn't stop returning. Surface, superficiality. Women in Maycomb. Society. I picked up my pen and it went from there. Took me a while to realise Prejudice has been one of those topics I favoured. Sensitive issues, what people often tend to avoid and turn a blind eye to. But knowing well it doesn't drive them away. Tackling them has always been a favourite - the memory remains vivid. Because it reminds me of where I stand. I'm clear. And it's calling for me to face it - my passion has never waned. Maybe a second chance will make a difference. Guess I'll never know, because I never dwell on 'What-ifs'. And recalling the decision was not made without prayer, I feel safe. Perhaps I never liked taking my passion to be the ordinary. Because it’s my own keep, it belongs to myself and it should never be examined. Subjected to the judgment of others who may not even share my thoughts. Had I left it this way, passion wouldn’t remain pure then, would it? I’m clearer. No regrets, because I am my passion’s keeper.