I'm not proud of my citizenship. And I don't know why. I blame the mass media, the TV, the good looking celebrities from the other side of the world.

(I can't blame my parents who gave me a childhood where I was always compared by others. I don't want to hurt them.)

I'm not happy with the color of my skin. Judging the way I look I think I don't have anything pleasing.

I fascinate other people with a different ethnicity than I am. People who live on rich countries. People who can travel wherever they want on any part of the world. I think of those people to be better than I am, luckier than I am, wiser than I am. I like how the lady, that I saw last time with a skin brighter than I am, well-dressed walking on the garden, taking pictures, was enjoying herself. I also love the color of her hair. I think it was gold or blonde.

I cannot blame myself. I have to confess it, and I wish there will be a time where I can finally love my origin, my family, where I came from, and myself as a whole.