Who Can Judge (Me)?

On Heraclitus’ River, On Borges’ Other, On Listening to Songs I Recorded When I Was Younger, Happier, and More Hopeful

Hey! Something weird, I should have mentioned earlier - I stumbled upon a younger more hopeful version of myself. I feel like a dreamer in a Borges story. Have you ever read any Jorges Luis Borges? I’ve mentioned before how his short story tricks have influenced my own attempts at playing with form, but maybe more fascinating is his ascent to world-wide adoration, his particular relationship to authorial celebrity - Borges wrote in Spanish but his works were translated into English later in life, so he became famous for words he had written 30 years before. As someone craving glory and recognition for my art but also someone who believes inescapably that all of us we change, that we go through eras; I imagine that getting acclaim for something we’d probably forgotten we once felt would be a particular joy/sorrow combo! Anyhow, Borges has a couple stories where the older present version of himself interacts with the younger and the younger him always condemns the older.

Passage from Jorge Luis Borges’ short story, THE OTHER, bracketed by photos of myself, much younger, and much much much younger. (Conveniently, these photos of me found tucked into the pages of my Jorge Luis Borges’ Collected Fictions

Now, back to me! I used to write songs. They weren’t great. But they’d make my friends laugh. And once, my younger brother told me that he was having a bad day and he listened to some of my songs and they made him feel better, which as you know, really is all you need to keep going.

Now, back to now! I was reminded I had these songs on my phone and the other day when feeling a bit blue, I gave them a listen and they both 1) made me feel better and 2) condemned me. lol.

After texting you, I reread the Borges story I was remembering. There wasn’t the condemnation I remembered! I added that. Ha! It did, however, discuss the misleading authority of memory.

I think I wrote a story once in homage to the Borges story, where young me judged old me. Or, maybe I only ever meant to write that story. I can’t remember. It either happened or didn’t long ago.

Meanwhile, listening to my old songs reminds me I use to be a better man, lol. More hopeful and kinder and patient. Darn these kids! Darn these old bones!