Nothing Is Important
It is not important. I passed a bookstore. I dropped in. I didn’t have a list of books in mind. In a brief of time I saw a book, thinking that it was interesting. I would have never know if I hadn’t bought the book and I hadn’t read it through and in the end I found myself love the book.
It becomes trivial if I saw it in a bookshop, picked it up, read a few pages, and put it away, left the shop, and went home. I don’t even think about it again.