You know how sometimes you read something and you feel better for it though if someone asked you to explain it you’d prolly draw a blank? That’s how I feel with Hardy, Arundhati Roy & Jon Elia. Don’t understand most of it & neither do I try. You can’t understand a sunrise or rain or love – you just know it makes you feel better, happier.
People been telling me I need to read biz books. Books on entrepreneurship, life lessons, making money. I tried. I swear I did. It was interesting. But only for like the first 20 pages. These books are too practical. I feel like they sap the “human” right out of me. No disrespect intended. That’s just me. How does learning to make money enrich your soul? If your soul is empty, unnourished, boring, how do you live? Does the money, fame, success matter? I mean 4 years ago just being called an entrepreneur made me giggle. Today, deserved or not, I am pretty famous. But does it make me happy the way quietly helping some young woman to a tiny online task made me when I started? That gratification, personal satisfaction, it’s almost gone now that I have to go around blowing my own trumpet telling the world how awesome I am having helped xyz number of people.
I have a headache & nausea. I think I need specs. If the doc prescribes them I will get those round kinds Harry Potter wears.
This post is making no sense but I feel good.