Aiming Low

I have spent many hours waiting

for the time to pass

for the train and the rain to pass

for me to get over my mistakes,

which I cannot erase.

Why cower?

In the corner?

*   *   *

When a flower is not a flower, it ceases to exist. When a wall is not a wall, it is useless. When you cannot name what you are, you can only let yourself be ridiculed by the foolish passing wind and the humming bespectacled bees. In the world of purists, I am a deformed being, and the penalties for not fitting in are so high. What to do?

At one point, I had decided that I would let myself be ridiculed; not be understood at all; even be mangled to death. What could I lose? Now is the time to renew this past resolution, now long expired, to move ahead. I would let myself be hurt. Set the default mode to: no one will understand. Indulge, my friend, in a little sentimental bath of your own selfishness. The best piece of advice ever given to mankind is: AIM LOW. Remember to aim low.

Good night.

The Sad State of Differences

A yellowed sheet of notebook paper fell out of a 1972 Japanese translation of The Great Gatsby. There was writing on it, in a clumsy hand in halting English:

I am American boy. I like to different. I am American girl. I like to different.

Look at America today. No one likes to be different anymore. Lady Gaga does not count. She is a celebrity, whose job is to create an illusion of difference and get paid for it. No, I am talking about the real people. They are all so fond of "overcoming differences" and "discovering similarities." In this regard, celebrities are no exception, because they have to please the people.

Differences should never be overcome; they are simply to be respected. Similarities, like photons, are too numerous and commonplace across the globe and the universe to be truly discovered. Mr. O'Sarcasm said: "Oh, you found some similarities and commonalities? Big deal, and you probably just mistook your own hand for someone else's, ending up in a tautological bind. Extricate yourself, you can do it." But what he really meant was: "Oh no you can't." He is Mr. O'Sarcasm.

Differences are the most cherishable moments, and the most divine. They are the true sources of harmony, which is nothing more, as any musician or philosophe would know, than a result of carefully calibrated, and luscious, discord.

Discrimination arises in the process of passive-aggressive, coercive assimilation, where the value of similarity and parallel structures is overrated to the nth degree. On the other hand, differences, when rightfully acknowledged, can prove the existence of genuine tolerance and intellectual freedom--just as a flickering flame can signal the presence of oxygen or of life, an eye, and a perceiving mind.