Have you ever had a feeling: what is the purpose of my life? Take even less ambitious: why am I doing it? From time to time I have these unwelcome thoughts; and right now there are my constant visitors. I am not aiming as high as dwelling on the purpose of life; I am straggling to grasp a mere thought of my daily existing.
Looking for a change in my life, I had decided to close my blog today and was going through the old posts I have stumbled over many comments from people I never knew. It gave me a hope; it gave a glimpse of a bright inspiring feeling of something intangible but very pleasant. What is it?
Why am I so sensitive to the things which are barely noticeable to others?
Why am I able to watch “Pride and Prejudice” by Jane Austen time after time, losing the time, falling in oblivion, and the next morning, on my way to work, listen the same - beautiful melody of the trilling Austen’s sentence - just on CD?
What is wrong with me? Spending the whole Saturday by rambling around and enjoying the world’s masterpiece “Anna Karenina” by Tolstoy. I never get tired of it. It is like Disney’s “Magic Kingdom”, the reality gives its way to reveries.
And outside is a tropic storm. “Isaac” has come. A mighty wind bends the huge palms in the garden and the dull sound of knocking branches periodically hitting the roof spreads around the silence.
Through all this weather chaos, one question is piercing my mind: Should I cancel my blog?
Looking for a change in my life, I had decided to close my blog today and was going through the old posts I have stumbled over many comments from people I never knew. It gave me a hope; it gave a glimpse of a bright inspiring feeling of something intangible but very pleasant. What is it?
Why am I so sensitive to the things which are barely noticeable to others?
Why am I able to watch “Pride and Prejudice” by Jane Austen time after time, losing the time, falling in oblivion, and the next morning, on my way to work, listen the same - beautiful melody of the trilling Austen’s sentence - just on CD?
What is wrong with me? Spending the whole Saturday by rambling around and enjoying the world’s masterpiece “Anna Karenina” by Tolstoy. I never get tired of it. It is like Disney’s “Magic Kingdom”, the reality gives its way to reveries.
And outside is a tropic storm. “Isaac” has come. A mighty wind bends the huge palms in the garden and the dull sound of knocking branches periodically hitting the roof spreads around the silence.
Through all this weather chaos, one question is piercing my mind: Should I cancel my blog?
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