I am the Foreign, the Stranger, the Alien

I am an immigrant. An intruder. A visitor who doesn't leave anymore.
I will never be truly 'at home' here. This country will never be mine, and it will never fully accept me as hers.
I am the Foreign, the Stranger, the Alien.
I speak two languages. I think in two languages. I even dream in two languages. I sometimes even cry in both languages, or love in both. I am in between home-countries, somewhat in both but in fact in none.
It feels that I will never be seen as good as your average local - proving to them that you are actually better in any way, shape or form normally upsets the locals. The locals (let's take my 'mate' Joe Blogg) don't want to be upset. Not by an effing immigrant, anyway.
In one job I used to have, they were all treating me as if I was handicapped in some strange way; well, if I am not a 'local', there must be something really wrong with me. I have missed out on something.
I don't expect anything extraordinary to happen to me, good things to fall on my plate from an ultra-generous heaven. I have to work my backside off to earn and get a fraction of what I want. In a way perhaps I am handicapped, I do not have 'the background', I do not come from the same genetic pool as the 'locals'. If I want a life, then I will have to wait in the queue, the locals have priority. They make me feel that being a 'local' (i.e., born and bred) is the true passport to life here. Forget about that silly red paper thing (with a chip containing your details). It is your accent and history that counts.
They hear the foreign accent and straight away in their minds a sudden and brief process places you in a category - the category of the exotic, the category of the tree-climbers or the category of a lesser race.
The only good thing my background has brought me was an almost red-carpet admission in one of my jobs here. We want ethnic minorities, yes please! But at the end of the day, how can you say no to an idiot who comes to work for free (minority or not)?
And yes, I am an immigrant. I've got an advantage: I can understand their world, but they will never be able to understand mine. I might as well be from Mars or Planet Zorg, as far as they are concerned. Yeah, keep them guessing :-) Live long and prosper.
I am an immigrant. They might think of me as a pain in the neck, a bother, a rash, 'cause I am not going away. But I came in peace.
I am the Foreign, the Stranger, the Alien. And you know what, I am effing proud of it.