If only I could sit here contentedly in the middle of my life as children seem to in theirs, without constantly worrying about the state of things, tomorrow, next week, next year. But since the age of fourteen, when I conspired against my parents, not fleeing as I intended to, but biding my time and preparing, knowing that one day I would be ready, I have required the future as a goal. I’ve needed something to happen every day that showed a kind of progress or accumulation. I can’t bear it when thing go slack, when there isn’t sufficient intensity. But I would welcome a quiet period. I am hoping for that, in the long run.

Hanif Kureishi.

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