19 Ağustos 2019, Pazartesi
saat: 20:42
“Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all.”
I’m tired, and my to-do list is long. The list I’ve not yet made will be longer, and I will be tired still. I’m old now and everything is boring. Not everything is boring, but all that was once not boring is boring now. Most of what was once not boring has grown to bore me. I want boring things, but different boring things. I am old now and want to read books on human predicament. Is it possible to drink too much coffee? I have a list to make. There are things to do tomorrow, just like there were things to do today. I’m tired. I’m old. Surely. I say this over and over again.
I think at one time I thought of love, all love, as something consumptive. I think I thought that love could waste me and should until there was nothing left of me except that love. It sounds ridiculous now, now when love is restorative or it is not love. And once there was something to persistence, the innocent sort of persistence, that I hated and now am charmed by in life when I see it exhibited in others - the way it softens me to them. What a wonderful thing to be, I think, in a world where it is easier, safer, to bury your head and let life happen to you and all around you. I have so much I believe I want to say, so much to say about everything, but I want someone to listen. I want to be heard. I hope, if anything, I’m becoming more deft, louder, more impactful.
