Our Days Are Becoming Nights

Everywhere I go I think, I should live here… I should know what it’s like to work in a cigar factory in Leon, fish in the Mekong, living in a floating house on Tonle Sap, sell hot dogs at Fenway Park, trade stocks in New York, wander the Thar Desert by camel, navigate the Danube, see the way Denali looks at sunset, the smell the Sonora Desert after a rain, taste the dust of a Juarez street, know how to make tortillas, what Mate tastes like, feel autumn in Paris, spend a winter in Moscow, a summer in Death Valley. I should be able to not just visit places, but in habit them. There is, so far as I know, only one short life. And in this life I will do very few of these things.

Sometimes I think that’s very sad.