I admit – there has been an obscene amount of reading, eating and spending over the past few days. For one, I’ve been thoroughly consumed by the eloquence of The Great Gatsby, which has now left me on a path learning about the art of gentleman etiquettes, dancing, and clothes. Don’t laugh, I am serious.
I’ve always wondered how much a book can influence your lifestyle, and if it varies on different individuals. I won’t say that we have a lot of people that read, but at the very least there is a handful – abundantly enough to form a social hierachy – that reads. Yet, I’m not sure if their truest thoughts are concealed deep within the fabrics of their mind, or that they simply don’t get what I get. How can a person read the same book – same words and lines, same manner and all – and yet perceive from the simple words an entirely different meaning? We could trace this difference back to genetic, or perspective frame or mindset but that would put doubt on the literacy of a writer. So must he write 12039812 different styles?
Do these words form synapses based on what we do have stored in our heads? Or are they strictly affiliated with how much of your mind you allow open? Or perhaps people read for the sake of keeping their minds busy and absorbs only very little.
Perhaps a more accurate speculation would be that what we take of this world is based on our emotional intelligence, for me that is Eve. If so, then that means that we are ALL, to a certain extent, limited. Unlike IQ, EQ’s not at all measurable. You could tell a person’s EQ from conversation, but most of the time we don’t bother. I think I’m fortunate though, because my parents are some impressively brilliant and amazing people and I’m quite glad I’m their offspring. Well, not enriching financially but in every other single way.
I am slightly and fortunately impressed at the amount of ideas that pop into my head nowadays, from conversations and speeches. The Alchemist was a stepping stone towards spirituality; (Further down)The Road Less Travelled towards humanity and maturity; The Social Animal towards understanding social circumstances and the importance of a position of dominance; The Great Gatsby in exploring the essence of a great man and societal skills, and now Walden which explores the solitary corners of the mind. I’ve also showered in a variety of other captivating reads like Martin’s A song of Ice and Fire was an indulgent read, as well as other self-help books.
Even National Service is playing it’s part now – I’ve never been quite optimistic about it, but I am more than keen – possibly passionate – towards excelling in this ‘self-development’ path as they put it.
I don’t truly know where I am headed with this, so I shall withdraw back into reading. Lie. But I won’t reveal it.
“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” Speechless.