Daddy went to work. Mama went to work. My brother and I went to daycare, and then on to school, to grow up with strangers, only spending time with our family in the remnants of the days.
All of us apart all day long. Spending our days – our lives – apart, only to reunite at the end of the day when we are tired and grumpy from running the rat race.
Family is relegated to the margins, as if being with strangers is more important. Nothing is more important than family, they say. People say all sorts of things they don’t mean.
It’s no wonder we cry to be heard. Facebook this. Twitter that. Look where I am. Look what I bought. Look at me.
Hear me. Please?
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