Oxymoron Series Chapter 1

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Sevilla, España

The inspiration behind Hemmingways, “The Sun Also Rises”.

To be precise, in the afternoon it takes a perpetuated waning period where it makes everything orange. That’s the color of theme here. Orange trees. Sheer, flowing plumage that Zara capitalizes on.
It is that topaz sheen that covers most of the brown eyes and makes them appear iridescent. That slight bump in the middle of a narrow nose. That is what separates true Spaniards from Mexicans or any other Latino. They have olive skin, not brown. They are brunette, not raven-haired. They are refined.

I look to my right, and there is a group of sevillanas that look more welcoming than any local back in my old college town. There, my disposition was unwelcome because my flair for fashion is considered overdressed. Here, I blend into the woodworks and haven’t been more in my element. My layered attire complete with my “bufada, medidas y mi camiseta”. They are all wearing the same thing. I know what they are saying, yet I am not part of their conversation. For all I know, they feel the same and the intimidation is reciprocal.

I look to my left, and there are these American exchange students decked out in North Face. They seem to be enjoying each others company as if they were at their local student union. They exchange stories as if its summer camp. The desire to branch away is immediately blocked off by the fear of potential rejection from those sevillanas.

The need for suffocating familiarity sets barriers to true inhibited freedom.

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