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Maybe the mothership is a VW microbus

February 12, 2011

You ever have days when you wonder if you got dropped onto this ball of dirt from some other planet?  Maybe some other universe?

Yeah…kinda having one of those days.

Sometimes I have those days because I just feel out of sorts with the cosmos.  I don’t know why some days I feel it more acutely than others, because in truth I’ve never been all that sorted with the cosmos to begin with.  There are days I feel my square peg-ishness far more than others, though.

But other times it’s a little different.  It’s as if I got plopped into hostile territory and immediately the natives start popping up to snarl at me, reminding me at every turn that I am an outsider– unwanted, unwelcome, a bore, a drain on resources, extraneous, stupid, not worth the time it takes to tell me to get lost but hey– get lost anyway.  It’s as if I there is some demand that I explain and defend my very existence.  Use eight words or less.  No vowels permitted.

It’s been one of those days.

It’s not that anyone has been unkind to me or that bad things have happened.  They haven’t.  But that doesn’t mean I can’t hear the snarling natives trying to interject their opinion at every turn.  I hear them quite well.  And truth be told, it’s no surprise.  I’m in their territory and they don’t like it.  In their territory, I am a rebel to be shut down.  In the kingdom I represent, they are condemned rebels trying to do some damage before their time is up.  I know this.  But war is never pretty.  I feel the cuts.  Heck, I don’t like a popcorn hull stuck in my gum, so why would I like this any better?

I really think that at the end of the day we’re going to find out that things we weren’t able to see during our earth lives don’t look the way we always thought they must.  It’s going to be more more shocking, more gritty, more beautiful, more wonderful than we could ever imagine.  And there will be a hole for every peg.

 

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