Books of Longing


Dear Eugene,

If there is a thought that I think everyday now it is how my life is more than half over but if the human experience is a feast I haven't tasted the half of it.

Heck, I don't think I can even remember half of the stuffs in the books I placed on the shelf right behind me, books I pretend to care enough about to have them have my back.  How many words do you need to hold on to, to live by, to stay alive?

Sometimes I saw a shadow at the corner of my eye (don't know which) and I wondered if it will grow bigger.  Now if you are a doctor you will say Let me take a look at that and would try to see through my eyes, and I'd say Don't bother, I am half way done.  I don't think it will help you to see things through my eyes, that's all, not trying to make a statement about optometry.

I have a friend who said if he could choose again he would rather be an optometrist and I asked Why?  I don't know if he knew the full reason but it has to do with reducing life to two holes on a face.  He would never put it that way but I know he wouldn't object either.  It sounds like a huge assurance to most, in particular when one sees in those holes steady income, professional prestige and the next vacation not too far away.

We all have books of longing but mostly life is easier if they stay on the shelf.

Yours, Alex

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