Thirst for knowledge.

 

 

turned on floor lamp near sofa
Photo by Ricardo Esquivel on Pexels.com

 

Late at night, a few essays due for uni, and I find myself scouring the net, thirsty for knowledge. Unconcerned with the topic of my essay for now, instead I read article after article of Black British women. My peers, doing amazing things, speaking about racism, race, culture, the impact it has….

My mind makes note of names, and words, I search for books on amazon, adding them to my basket, purchasing a few on audible with my backlog of credits.

It dawns on me, how thirsty I am for this knowledge. How absent it was from the majority of my education, or how two dimensional it was, when it was present there.

 

There are so many thoughts about how disconnected it all is, and a part of me grieves for my younger self.

 

Still, there is hope, with every breath there is hope.

 

Still learning, and reading…

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