It seems that the more places I see and experience, the bigger I realize the world to be. The more I become aware of, the more I realize how relatively little I know of it, how many places I have still to go, how much more there is to learn.
Travel changes you. As you move through this life and this world you change things slightly, you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life — and travel — leaves marks on you.
The journey is part of the experience — an expression of the seriousness of one’s intent. One doesn’t take the A train to Mecca.
How many of you Trump alarmists are ready to defend Ted Cruz or Marco Rubio as somehow more reasonable or mature than Trump? Both men are ambitious nihilists bought and paid for by corporate sugar daddies. Neither one can point to a single original policy idea. They’re just peddling the same tired brand of obstruction that has come to define the “Republican agenda.” Cruz is basically Sen. Joe McCarthy with a Bible and a better comb-over. Rubio is like some dry-mouthed hate-bot dreamed up by Ayn Rand during her lost weekend in the Caribbean.
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