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Life

The Inevitable and the Improbable

I have created a publication at Medium, and begun cross-posting my almost daily journal entries into it. In the past I’ve reserved Medium for the long-form “too long, didn’t read” essays – perfect examples of “nobody wants to read this, but I’m writing it anyway”. Those screeds live behind a pay-wall; attracting an incestuous audience of paying Medium writers consuming a diet of platform dog food while chasing fractions of pennies from the passing torrent of visitors.

I sometimes wonder just how much of an anarchic streak exists within me. Given a platform that supports paid content, here I am polluting it with free content for the masses – standing atop a pile of furniture in the street, waving an improvised flag, shouting spirited things in opposition to “the man”.

Anyway.

If I continue writing about writing, the world will fall in on itself and cause a rift in the space-time-continuum. Probably.

Something interesting happened today (or last night, but I’ll pretend it was today). Somebody followed me on Twitter a few days ago; an acquaintance of an acquaintance, and I followed them back. Like me, they seemed to be something of a unicorn of the Twitterverse; sharing moments of daily life, random observations, and other such miscellany. A fellow unicorn.

After repeatedly crossing paths, we began firing instant messages back and forth – the usual clumsy high-wire act of introducing yourself to a stranger on the internet. The inevitable question arose: “Where in the world are you then?”

We live ten minutes from each other.

In a world with fifty million square miles of land on which we might have lived, it turns out we live ten minutes from each other.

You can’t even make it up.

One reply on “The Inevitable and the Improbable”

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