Beginings still more

As I sit in a chair, I get to reflect
as I struggle not aspirate my own swallow..I think of survival
As I sruggle to swallow the simplest of foods, I understand a tiny bit of survival

Growing up as I did, I never really suffered, never really struggled.
I understood sacrifice, because that is what my very smart Father did everyday for me, eing seriously discriminated against AS AN individual because he was foriegn in Texas
My Mom suffered because of this, but it was the emotional and sometimes physical suffering of being in a pressure cooker.
Were things easy?? actually, yes I had what I neeed, food, clothes, shelter, parents.
They sacrificed to make sure I had those things, we were not rich, but we never desparte for anything. We ate out vacationed fished. I never had a serious physical problem, save for the occational bully, who really did underestimate me.
I really and truely had. But as I said before, middle classre life is a nightmare.
The direction is not to survive, but to suceed and become part of what really is an illusion.
So the struggle is to find direction.Chemistry became a quick passion in early high school despite several bad teachers and my third grade teacher.
There really was not much else to challenge me.
I grew up white with almost no contact or comprehension that there were others out there.
That someone might go to bed hungry or endanger of their life was incomprehensable....
So what I wanted to do was unclear, but I always wanted to help and underdog and stopped several bullies (including the captain of the football team) frompicking on lesser people.
So I sit here understanding what it means to try to survive as a I work to make sure I don't asparate my own saliava and what it means to suffer as I fail to be able to swallow mashed potaotes.
I guess I now have a small comprehension of suffering.