Saturday, March 28, 2015

Nothing and Everything

There was no one in him; behind his face (which even through the bad paintings of those times resembles no other) and his words (which were multitudinous, and of fantastical and agitated turn), there was no more than a slight chill, a dream someone had failed to dream. 

At first he thought that all people were like him, but the surprise and bewilderment of a friend to whom he had begun to describe the hollownewss showed him his error, and also let him know, forever after, that an individual should not differ from its species.
-J.L. Borges, "Everything and Nothing"

Sometimes I forget what an outlier I am.

Usually I am reminded in the odd look I get when I describe what I do to average 'Muricans:

You do what?  

Hip Hop diplomacy, and other cultural diplomacy.

Where?  

Zimbabwe.  Venezuela.  Iraq. Kazakhstan.

Is that even really a place?  

When I really want to delve into Absurdistan, I explain about my guard monkey in India.

It is just the life I live.  I often hear people say that I am "livin' the dream."

Sometimes it is a dream; sometimes it is exhausting.  In the end, it is just a matter of life being what you make it. I made mine about travel and adventure.

And so I tilt on.


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