And now it's the freckles!

I tried. I really tried not to get another "Are you all right?". But Dior didn't even manage it. And just as I am carefully reading out an exam paper to a boy I get it again; a stranger asking an "Are you sure you're all right?". And the thing is I'm sure I'm all right but I'm not sure what is causing this doubt of allrightyness. So I asked why, just got an already known answer, "Because you look sort of pale. And because it's as if you have freckles of something." Freckles or something? Freckles by all means, but a something as if it were contagious? I like my freckles, even if I didn't like them, they've always been there, so it's not as if I have ever had a choice. Freckles do not make me look all wrong. This is now bordering on the discriminatory. It's mostly the Church's fault, because the Church is easy to blame and it's so strong as to bear the brunt of everything. But all those love-the-klandestini-neighbours sermons are having their toll. So now the Church-going population is starting to think that dark is normal, and pale is not normal. Any time now I'm going to be thrown sticks and stones just for being whiter than white. I'd better not comment on what I feel for the klandestini because sometimes I grumble my fair share. And at the same time I think it could be me. And apparently it's starting to be me, just on the furthest colour palette. I am taking a good look at my face in the mirror and I think it's normal. But people don't think so, including my mum. My mum thinks I look worn out. And that makes me think of the Bible, as in the 7 years of famine and the 7 years of abundance. And I don't want to think about fattened cows for a very good reason. I'm not worn out, I lead quite an easy lifestyle, I get enough sleep, I basically don't do much. Nothing to be worn out by. But with a big majority of men turning gay, and with so many klandestini running all over the place, I really think I'm going to become a very rare breed of white. It'll be just black babies sooner or later. And my yet uncooked babies will be the subject of racism because they'll be white. It's my grandad, God bless his soul, who was a terrifically good looking man even in his eighties, the product of an Englishman who left his seed and fled to his country. Generations later, I inherit the white skin and the freckles. Just what's a girl like me to do?