![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I've heard a quote, I forgot where but it goes like this: "It is better to know one book intimately than a hundred superficially."
I immediately thought to myself, this is true, no questions asked - a horrible habit I've acquired from reading books and glorifying Tumblr-able quotes - but came to realize if it really has some semblance of truth to it. I thought about my life, what I want to become and what I've become thus far. Then it hit me. To think about life, that one fleeting thing we only get to experience once, is such a jarring experience in that no matter what I do or how far my reasoning would take me, there is ultimately only one life I'm allowed to live. How long would it take to read every single book to ever exist? Not that it's possible. How many skills and passions - in a way that's humanly possible - can I intimately know, if not only superficially? How many professions? People? Is it plausible to sacrifice depth for variety? But then again, life itself is already quite varied. We meet so many amazing people, learn & read so many things; some of us have jumped from job to job and most of us have gone through a heap of phases that, when looking back to the things we used to like and how we used to talk, bring feelings of discomfort and embarrassment. And yet I feel as though, subtly but essentially, that my existence simply cannot be satisfied.
I immediately thought to myself, this is true, no questions asked - a horrible habit I've acquired from reading books and glorifying Tumblr-able quotes - but came to realize if it really has some semblance of truth to it. I thought about my life, what I want to become and what I've become thus far. Then it hit me. To think about life, that one fleeting thing we only get to experience once, is such a jarring experience in that no matter what I do or how far my reasoning would take me, there is ultimately only one life I'm allowed to live. How long would it take to read every single book to ever exist? Not that it's possible. How many skills and passions - in a way that's humanly possible - can I intimately know, if not only superficially? How many professions? People? Is it plausible to sacrifice depth for variety? But then again, life itself is already quite varied. We meet so many amazing people, learn & read so many things; some of us have jumped from job to job and most of us have gone through a heap of phases that, when looking back to the things we used to like and how we used to talk, bring feelings of discomfort and embarrassment. And yet I feel as though, subtly but essentially, that my existence simply cannot be satisfied.
