(I never really understood what ‘living life to the full’
means anyway. How is jumping about in a nightclub every weeknight, going bungee
jumping every Saturday, and surfing with the gang on alternate Sundays, any
more full than sitting by an open fire in the winter reading Kafka’s The Trial and ruminating on the state of
existence? They’re just different. Wherever you aim yourself, living is surely
still a matter of putting one foot in front of the other and carrying on
through that curious constant we call time until the path runs out and you fall
over. What does ‘full’ mean?)
But back to the gurus. I read one once who said that if you
possess something which you haven’t used for more than twelve months you should
throw it away. That’s a bit of a generalisation, isn’t it? If we’re talking
about something of relatively minor consequence like a wife or a promising career
in the Civil Service, then maybe. But that little plastic model of a Spitfire which you built from an Airfix kit when you were eight? I don’t think so,
somehow.
(I know I've muttered something similar before, but when you're not living life to the full and garnering sufficient material for three blog posts an hour, the only remaining option is to try Variations on a Theme.)
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