I’m just a human like you with the same fears and dreams. We are more alike than we’re different, I know that deep in my soul. It’s our journeys that are different. Yet oddly the same. As a writer, I can’t help but take the swirling madness inside and spew it out in words. It’s my hope that we can all leave this world a little better than we found it. One smile brighter. One kindness at a time. Enjoy the adventure and take care of those you meet.
From The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows
n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.
n. the kind of unnoticed excellence that carries on around you every day, unremarkably—the hidden talents of friends and coworkers, the fleeting solos of subway buskers, the slapdash eloquence of anonymous users, the unseen portfolios of aspiring artists—which would be renowned as masterpieces if only they’d been appraised by the cartel of popular taste, who assume that brilliance is a rare and precious quality, accidentally overlooking buried jewels that may not be flawless but are still somehow perfect.
I see it, everywhere, though I’ve never seen the experience defined. Tiny nuances of strangers that we take the time to note, fleetingly and flippantly, but might recall late at night while lying in bed and wonder how they do it. How we define excellence and beauty in such minute margins that we might, every day, be missing that which could bring our species to the next level. Instead, Kardashians.