Of late I have been a bit lost. I have had some pains that are out of the
ordinary and they concern me. Today I
will give the relevant doctor a call. Also,
I had a growth on my ear that needed to be removed. It was beginning to look like I had a small
toe growing out of the top of my ear. A numbing agent and a few snips and now I
look like a Mike Tyson chew toy. Getting old blows.
Just the other day I saw a movie just because of my current fascination
with Portugal. The film was called Night Train to Lisbon; it is a languidly
paced and beautiful movie. Jeremy Irons acts
a solid part depicting an adult at the crossroads between the long road behind
and the short road ahead. Having seen the movie, I picked up the book. Same story, sort of. The book tells the tale from a very different
narrative perspective.
The book is a meditation by a person who believes in nothing
beyond this life on personal identity and ethics. Some parts of the narrative, large parts of
the book are purportedly drawn from the journal of a dead man, wax
redundant. But some parts are so spot on
to what I am feeling this day, two months before I turn 62. What if I could take back those eight words I
said 25 years ago. What if I had not been
smoking the night before the PSAT. What
if ….and more importantly what next?
In the book the main character seems to be heading for a new
life, ready to create a new narrative with the time he has left after many years
of a highly regimented existence. A new
narrative, yes that is what I am hoping for.
Mind you, I am not counting on it, but I am hoping for it. Let me walk out without fear as I face my
final years.
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