Saturday, November 20

About starting fresh, not just leaving marks

I was born a century and a half too late for real world adventure and and two centuries too early for space exploration.

Not everyone is cut out to be a pioneer but it certainly would be and amazing experience. An expedition in freedom. Now I wish that I was born to be of age in the 1880-90s and get on a boat to some European colony. A short brown asian male wearing Khakis and a panama hat directing indigenous workers on some civil works project. Or to be a merchant marine transporting cinnamon from the Dutch colony of Cylon.

There might be a colony on Mars in our lifetimes, but there sure as hell won't be arable land yet, nor will there be cheap transportation for any down-on-his-luck man who wants to go. It won't be the kind of open, free-to-the-public settlement that can really provide us with what we need.

I moved a continent away, to a land where I didn't know anyone, where I couldn't even work. Over the years I've pulled myself up from my own boot straps, sorting out the right papers, making a home for myself, finding work, keeping myself fed. I came here with nothing and through the power of my own will suffered through homelessness, shared living, and finally self-sufficiency.

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