This text won’t be about one of the most meaningful Beatles songs sung by John Lennon, “Nowhere Man.”
Contemplating and writing, while knowing that I am not a popular and read author and celebrity, I leave in writing my uncensored thoughts, which someone, someday, will indeed read and appreciate. Undoubtedly, all my works will be works of a Nowhere Man, almost anonymous. Do I care about that? No, because fame among people is futility. I write because I want to prove to myself that I am not living in a dark age and that I can skillfully direct and transform the electrical discharges occurring in my head, which we call thoughts, into the written word.
These were today’s Nowhere Man notes.
I am not an exceptional human. Or, I am unique, like everyone else. After all, uniqueness is common. John Lennon, mentioned at the beginning of this text, was distinctive, like all the other humans. Am I sad that I am a Nowhere Man, unknown to 99.99% of all the rest of people? Contrary.
I think I am dumb, or maybe just happy.
As Kurt Cobain sang in one of the best Nirvana songs, “Dumb.” I do not believe in fame. I do not think it would make me a better human. The truth is that I aim for good health, living a peaceful life with my Kamilka, and doing street photography, writing, and preparing subsequent “Diaries” editions until I die at one hundred years old. This is what counts for a Nowhere Man. I reject money and fame. These illusions are based on instant, idle gratification. Undoubtedly, fame and money are not the answers to anything. I do not have to be as famous worldwide and rich as Donald Trump to know everything I wrote above. What I know is that simply we all can die shortly, and we won’t take our wealth and fame to the underworld. Money and fame are a mirage that leads to nowhere. That wrote I, the Nowhere Man.
