Rationality of the Irrational

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It was an awkward time in his life. A curious run of events had landed him a precarious job in the fringes of East Africa. Mentally he always considered himself a foreigner in society. He held, what he believes to be, a different set of moral standards that no one else could understand. He, himself, could not fully articulate what the standards were. Yet, he lived by them in every passing moment.

His new job was simply a job. He had worked many in the past. None of them were truly interconnected. Most of his friends, whom he carefully chose, had worked in a webbed network to the unattainable goal. They chose one job, so they could increase the opportunity of going to another. He had no problem with this reasoning, it was rational. The questioned he feared they never asked themselves was why was this chosen path the right one? Did they have a moment of clarity that told them this is what you’re suppose to do? If so, he was completely and sincerely jealous and taken aback.

The self-acknowledgement of knowing exactly what to do is extremely impressive, but also boring. He then reflected on what he was doing with his life.   Through reflection of the past interval steps seen from his friends could be found. The moves and decisions he took had very little to do with one another. He held no road map to his euphoric end. At one moment he is in route to a quick decisive end. Then drastically switches to a prolonged, dull journey. Only to change his life to a confusing middle ground. The leaps and bounds of his movements’ alternative between the three plains. At times he journeys to higher levels within them. Only to quickly jolt himself in a new direction.

Eventually he landed himself in East Africa; Uganda to be exact. Now he was foreign both mentally and physically. With a light white skin tone and a towering height, blending was not an option. It was only fitting to not fit in. At least now it was immediate. He no longer had to wait for the internal count down to zero for someone to realize he was different. It was known right away.

His worked involved traveling to isolated areas within the under populated country. Passing through rarely travelled roads that were with clustered trading post. On top of the lush green rolling hills hidden dwellings would protrude tree lines. Sometimes they would be complimented by a leveled farm plot. The lure of isolation intrigued him. Where else could a person find themselves except to be reliant on themselves.

He was determined to meet these people. They, in his eyes, were unadulterated. A person living out here were not compromised by the power of a few individuals. They were not swayed by what a mob deemed fit as right and wrong. They simply lived for themselves. What bliss they must know. The ecstasy of depending on their own judgments.

Eventually he managed to meet them. Their land was valuable. Extremely valuable to the power of a few individuals. It was his job to exploit them with sight of hand tricks to take what they did not know they had. It was here that he learned what civilized meant, where purity was found and how hope was created.

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