I say to myself: Tomorrow I will know everything about many things. I will read everything and remember everything. The problem is that this tomorrow will never come. I do not know when, but I am assured of its arrival, and every night I enter my room exhausted to read a few lines from the same book. - And often the same lines - Then I sleep... and tomorrow is another day in which everything is repeated.
I wonder when they found the time and temperament to know everything they know? This is why these people became scholars, because they were able to force themselves to complete reading the rest of the pages when they returned to their rooms at night.
But I haven't failed yet.
I can be like them and better..
I will have a great deal...but tomorrow...not today
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