When you’re young—a child, a teenager, a twenty-something—it seems, as Elisabeth Eaves says, “like it will never end. You can do anything because time is limitless, it’s infinite.” You can move to a different state or a different country. You can buy a one-way plane ticket. You can go to graduate school. You can move in with your boyfriend and get engaged and buy a house; and then you can move out. You can sublet indefinitely.
Becoming an adult, it seems, is largely about making choices. You have to choose one country over another, one man over another, one life over another. That means, of course, figuring out what you want—and not just for tomorrow; for next month, next year. “I don’t know when you start thinking about time,” she says. “For me it was in my late twenties or early thirties.”
Elisabeth Eaves escreveu este livro e lembrou-me que divagar e vaguear são formas de tornar o tempo menos finito.
via the paris review