The world is bigger than America. The privilege that is associated with the thinking that what befalls America dictates the energy of the world. We want so much to be large when in reality we are small. To deal with the smallness and not make choices from the longing that comes with wanting to be big. Do we want desperately to matter in a human story that makes us feel tiny? I am not sure but I get that daily we move with certainty around the idea that the things we do matter. I am not sure they do. It seems that our existence is simply about passing time. The question is our we passing the time in a way that makes sense to us.
No comments:
Post a Comment