I suddenly find myself with much less time on my hands. More stuff to do at “work” (hurrah for consented alienation) – less for everything else. So it appears every action has an equal and opposite reaction… was that Einstein? Or Laozi ? In either case, you can only ever describe such forces. No one owns anything. Not anything that matters, anyway.
So in as few words as possible (and in the most classic form of pretentious laziness: “the quote”) here’s a short word on Life from Michel De Montaigne. And no, I haven’t read any complete works of his, but to be honest he wouldn’t really care, for two main reasons: firstly, he owned a hugemongous library of half-read books himself (he’d just drop ’em when he got bored lamenting those discarding pages for the insufficiency of their very created purpose) and, secondly, he’s dead. Long-time dead. I read that in a book about a book. Today there’s more books about books than books themselves….
The value of life lies not in the length of days, but in the use we make of them… Whether you find satisfaction in life depends not on your tale of years, but on your will.
Simple and straightforward. Almost stupidly so. And here’s the pretentious, preachy mind-munch: don’t read your Story: write it.