A paradox?

In South Africa, white South Africans are not supposed to be able to call themselves Africans, for the obvious colonial reasons. Please, I don't want to dredge up that ancient debate. We are supposed to call ourselves Europeans.

Here in Europe we are not allowed to call ourselves Europeans. We are most definitely African.

As in, for instance, my mom and I cannot donate blood in the UK, because we have had relations with an African male. The same males who are European in Africa. Needless to say, these men cannot donate blood in Europe either. Europeans have a special blood type or something it seems.

So what this means to me is that we are nothing. We are in-between, in no-man's land; the flotsam of confused cultures.

This distresses me sometimes. Mostly it is alright. I suffer from chronic existential confusion anyway. I feel permanently confused, not-belonging, identityless. I often feel as if I do not own my life at all.

It is my state of being. So it suits me just fine being AfriPean.

{As a complete aside, what exactly does a seamonkey look like? I have never seen a full grown seamonkey before. And what do they eat? Teeny tiny sea bananas? You see how bad it is? I am having a species-identity crisis as I write.}