Devastation.
I’m supposed to stay strong now. I’m supposed to stay strong and stay put and weather the storm and batten down the hatches and push back and have courage and have faith. I’m supposed to take heart.
I am a man of Muslim descent whose primary skill is in communicating within the English language at a sophisticated level and I now have been informed, in no uncertain terms, that live in a country where both of those characteristics are undervalued at best or despised at worst. I am watching as a country I chose to believe in chose instead to relapse into its worst addictions out of some odd sense of nostalgia and blood simple.
Tell me I should stay. Tell me I should raise my son here. Tell me how I should take heart when it will take me four years just to collect all of the pieces.
Creative Control 