Today was not a very nice day at work.

I had gone out to cover a small event, from which I was sure I could approach someone and get the information I wanted. It turned out it was more complicated than that. The man I tried to build a rapport with and painstakingly made myself known to, had opted to keep his silence in my company. The minute another person --- male, same nationality as his --- came up to him, he opened his mouth in a big smile, slapping the lanky fellow like they were old friends. Happily distracted by small talk, he was oblivious to the rest of us who were struggling to rub elbows with him, solely for the sake of getting our job done. I noticed though, that I was the least likely to achieve that. I didn't want to think the reason was my skin color or my appearance. Surely racism is a thing of the past, and anyone who would dare think he is being manipulated by the twisted notion of superiority by virtue of ethnic origin must have low self-esteem. It's a borderless society, the highly educated men in suits say. But if the lock of the gate to accomplishing a simple task glares at me with they key nowhere in sight, where do I go? It's hard to break down borders, especially the invisible ones. Many people choose to literally turn around and refuse to see the helplessness of those who are capable, but turned down over and over again for reasons that ultimately look silly.

At the end of the day, I choose to take it with a grain of salt. I refuse to live in bitterness and stop knocking on doors. On other days, I get lucky and make friends with nice people who see people not as crayons that can be disposed if they do not create a bright picture of the society, but as souls anyone can connect with, taking similarity of interests and feelings into consideration.

I keep on telling myself that I am too young to care about these things. At the same time, the issue of racism is getting too old. I hope that it dies soon, so that I will never ever have to encounter it again.