Procrastinare

He enjoyed reading and writing. He liked words. Words didn’t shout or make loud noises… They didn’t involve getting muddy in the freezing cold. They didn’t hunt inoffensive animals, either. They did what he told them to. So, he’d said, he wanted to write.

His father had erupted. In his personal world a scribe was only one step higher than a teacher… So there had been Words.

Terry Pratchett, The Truth

Feh. Las sonrisas de los últimos días, más que felices, han sido resignadas. Me tengo que conformar con que me divierta la ironía de la situación. De las tonterías que me pasan por alguna razón misteriosa.