I have realized that my life is in a constant state of hope.
My mind refuses to focus on the things happening this instant, and instead chooses to constantly look beyond to the second whose fate has not yet been determined.
I am the most excited when I allow it to run far ahead of me, but I often have to hold it back for the sake of actually getting things accomplished.
1 comment:
The human being lives leaned on the future, inclined over possibilities and desires. Only who resign to be unhappy doesn't live inclined to the future... being human is simply quixotic.
The more quixotic the more human. Or it may be the influence of Unamuno's books in me, don't know, or it may be thatbI found Unamuno instead of being influenced.
I keep admitting that I suck, as said in the previous post.
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