Restarted 'The Alchemist' last night;third try,I think. Burnt midnight oil over the book. Read and finished the book with a determination that I'll get back into the groove this time... I did finish the book. Perhaps I was not in the mood to take in that kind of a book. The supposed classic failed to make an impression on me;not that I have always been fond of such philosophical fables.
Trying to get back to Howard Roark and 'The Fountainhead'. Guess I'll eventually get to the last page, but doubt I'll enjoy the experience. Maybe I have lost the ability to take in the essence of the book! Have i lost part of my identity with this, I wonder... Reading glasses, a backpack full of books and my head bent over a book under the desk was what defined me most. Strange and distant, it now sounds... I recount those moments with a sense of wistful nostalgia! Whew, hope I really do get back into the groove!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment