Borders

Donde esta America?

Where to begin? Perhaps the fact that three of the most directional challenged people have proven all expectations of themselves; who misses the sign LAST USA EXIT in bold, yellow writing? Indefinitely, we do. We know who “we” is. Let’s not elaborate.


Driving through the foreign streets of Mexico, ascending into time traveling, and people watching I vaguely begin to realize what makes borders in the first place. It’s not simple geography that defines limits; it’s all that’s in our heads that defines limitations. How is a city less than ten minutes away but also be a world away? What makes a border? Why do they exist?
Has humanity lost all compassion? Maybe we just haven’t been honest with ourselves. Hypocrisy is real, more real than our existence. Right beside me is a world that should have been unfathomable to imagine, but my beginnings have prevented that. For that much I am grateful. But why stop there? Isn’t there something more I can do? For now, I’ll say no there isn’t. Questions can only be answered by more questions at this point. Though, from what I know this world we live in is nothing more but simplicity in the most complex form.
Let’s talk about where things are for a moment. Where does America end and Mexico begin, and vice versa. Same with other countries. We have become so inter-reliant that distinction doesn’t really matter. Or at least for me it’s become obsolete.
Sometimes accidental coincidences matter more in one’s recipe of life than planned, expected happenings. That is what I have learned from yesterday. Sitting in the back of a Prius accelerating at 80 miles per hour, half lost half justified.



To be continued... I think.