...or the i-just-woke-up-and-am-too-lazy-to-get-my-notebook-downstairs-and-i-just-scribble-in-here-because-the-laptop-is-beside-me post.
Possibility is more intriguing than reality...
Quoting Kierekegaard: "If I were to wish for anything, I should not wish for wealth and power, but for the passionate sense of the potential, for the eye which, ever young and ardent, sees the possible. Pleasure disappoints, possibility never. And what wine is so sparkling, what so fragrant, what so intoxicating, as possibility!"
The foolish longing for the asymptotic. The romantic's pining of that which he can almost have.
The cowardly inclination to be an appreciator not a practitioner.
But how long does possibility entice? Dreams deferred "dry up like a raisin in the sun."
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