The truth is that in every way, I am squandering the treasure of my life. It's not that I don't take enough pictures, though I don't, or that I don't keep a diary, though iCal and my monthly Visa bill are the closest I come to a thoughtful prose record of events.
Every day is like a kid's drawing, offered to you with a strange mixture of ceremoniousness and offhand disregard, yours for the keeping. Some of the days are rich and complicated, others inscrutable, others little more than a stray gray mark on a ragged page.
Some you manage to hang on to, though your reasons for doing so are often hard to fathom. But most of them you just ball up and throw away.
- Manhood for Amateurs by Michael Chabon
1 comment:
I hope you're reading Bad Mother next (I read it first, and I raced through it. I like Manhood a lot, but I don't feel like I'm reading my life).
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