Middle of Nowhere


We all live in the middle of Nowhere.

As long as man has existed, there have been places that are somewhere and places that are nowhere. Places that yes, you should take your family to--in fact, spread the word, take a load off. And places that no, no it's not worth the drive; nothing to see, nothing to do.

So many people live in the Middle of Nowhere, that we scarcely hear word about the east side of nowhere, or the north side of Nowhere. If so much emphasis is on its middle, well, then it really cannot be such a nowhere at all, can it?

But apparently it is, because man has complained of its existence for centuries. Man has decided that being nowhere is significantly worse than being somewhere, because only nobodies live where they are forgotten, and all the somebodies live where they may always be seen and heard and marveled at.

Such a bad place it must be, Nowhere. I wonder, do people there still breathe? Do they laugh? Do they dance and sing? Are they not human? I rather feel a bit sorry for them, being all alone and forgotten like that.

There must be many "middles" in this Nowhere, many paths leading to the same distant place nobody seems to want to be. It makes me wonder, though, if nobody wants to be there, then can they not, well, leave? It seems as though whenever they are forced they put up a lot of fuss; lawsuits, lawyers, picket signs and all that. And you watch it on your television, and you ask yourself, who is that man, standing right there? and why won't he leave, such a silly thing to get all riled up about; a house.

So many people live in the Middle of Nowhere, that I sometimes wonder why I myself do not, and then I am reminded that perhaps, late at night, I believe that I am, and that I always have been. I wonder if maybe every place is not a Nowhere for someone, and that every Nowhere is a Somewhere for someone else.

Must be an interesting place, Nowhere. I should like to see it someday. I would wager that there are no wars, because if one lives in a place forgotten, then they hardly have anything to defend. And often, the places nobody visits are the places holding the last peace found in this world; the last hope.

Yes. I believe I shall go there, someday, although, I wouldn't be surprised if I have already visited it before.

Because, after all, who is it to decide what is Somewhere, and what is otherwise?

Don't we all live in our own Nowheres?

And until we see the beauty in the solitude, I suppose we always will.