I have been trying to find out what this country is.
I have been trying to understand what makes a home.
And what makes this country my home, apart from my accent.
I'm on the far edge of South Dakota staying in Rapid City. South Dakota intrigues me. I've never seen so much nothing in my life. Just farmlands and Wall Drug billboards for 400 miles. The badlands seem to come out of nowhere. Some people have made this their home and called it good, while others think a 8x10 room in New York City is also good. And they all believe they are Americans. How can there be this disparity? How do you choose what community to be a part of? How do you get them to communicate with each other knowing that, in most places around these states - big city or small town - people don't get out much? They don't know how the other sees things and have no concept of the conditions of their lives. How can they? All we have in common are cheeseburgers and freedom fries.
I am starting to taste a more complete truth about America. I see what all who have come here once saw. With the political climate as it is, sometimes it's easy to forget: This is a great, amazing country.