Suddenly, all the stories of dumb tourists who went into the desert with the Bedouins, only to be raped, robbed, or murdered, seemed like they were headed our way.
The idea that I could give a child the life they could never have, the idea that I could make a family and help a beautiful soul at the same time, was incredibly appealing to me.
I’ve been thinking about why this is. What’s so different about me that makes me more perceptive to people’s inner thoughts and feelings? It took me a long time but I think I’m starting to understand it.
Almost all of the greatest loves (and tragedies) of my life have been painful and incurable. I’ve started to think of myself as a hopeless poet who is forever a slave to forbidden or unrequited love.
Just once, I wanted the choice to be who I was, without anyone knowing my history or telling me what to do.
In the end, I did lay in bed, thinking just one thought. That thought kept repeating in my head like a mantra. It was raw desire. It was, “knock on my door and kiss me.”
Doing stand up comedy is weird. One minute you’re shaking from nerves and fumbling with the mic, the next you feel like an invincible genius who will literally never die.
To learn another language is to accept another culture, to truly see a language, a country, for what they are. Something so simple as learning a language can help us work towards acceptance.