An Elf in Hobbitton

In one manner or another, it seems that I am destined to be a friendly stranger in familiar places. Regardless of the crowd I find myself compelled to identify my own individuality with their ranks.  Some circumstances make it abundantly apparent, me being a secular cosmopolitan among faithful country folk, while others, being an individualist in a collectivist movement, are agonizingly muddled. These are the musing I make as I wander with nebulous, yet pointed purpose. That in which I seek is nothing short of self-actualization and ascension through a greater understanding of my own will and consciousness.

Alas, as my sight is drawn ever deeper into the universe that is my soul, I am hurled galaxies’ distance from the world I exist in. The distance between my mind and my life is the distance between Sol and Beetlejuice, yet somehow I am not alien. My thoughts are a language spoken only unto myself but my words are that of a common enough tongue. Simultaneously I am creature from a separate world yet one who is not unwelcomed. Is that even a worthy revelation…for do we not live as universes unto ourselves in a multiverse of collective experience?

Over the course of my life I have learned that is apparently not so. People’s conception of themselves is that of parts of an ever escalating series of collectives. Their existences are tribes within tribes within tribes. Though we all may be celestial objects in my eyes, in their eyes we are a looses alliance of clans: elves, hobbits, dwarves, humans, and orcs. As such, what endears me to them is their antithesis to my own perception.

I am of a separate but familiar collective, an elf in hobbit land. My tribe is not theirs but I am ascribed another tribe by them none-the-less. As I search for myself in the cosmos I am bound to Earth by this denial. To most we are little more than familiar strangers who’s existences cease outside our own purposes to the tribe. The purpose in my words is for myself and not a tribe. May I find clarity in my mad ramblings, clarity from the madness of tribalism that consumes our worlds. May I always be that elf in Hobbitton.

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