On very good days (which, let's face it are rare and far between) I will feel like the planets have finally aligned. These are the days when I get this intensive compulsive desire to touch that cat I see roaming around; these are the days that I will not complain about the weather; these are the days that I don't see all the things that stress me, that or I choose not to dwell on them. Like today. I was reading an article on The Rumpus this morning and for every article the writer linked to in the article, I realised that I had already read those articles some time back. And for the authors she mentioned, I had read a book and/or numerous articles they've written and even subscribed to their podcasts. I see how this may be seen as an obsession on my part. But I don't see it that way. This, dear reader, is HUGE for me. Like totally up there on the list of things that make me happy. See, I woke up one day and realised how very little I knew about the world. What followed then was a desire to read the world, a desire so dire it made me tremble. I became desperate to make sense of the world outside of the bubble that I live in, to want to listen to other people's realities, people who I don't meet in my day to day reality. But with the scramble to try to read, I had to face and accept this reality: unless I become immortal, I will never read everything that has been published and continues to be published. There are so many stories out there just waiting to be told -including mine. This world is layered in stories and I want to unravel them, layer after complex layer. So to find an article that has all the articles I have read seems like a step in the right direction. But it also means I should continue to intentionally and consciously diversify my reading.
The title of this post is from the song Nothing Else Matters by Metallica.
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