Fere,                                                                                    September 20, 2002         As I read your e-mail my mind was lulled to ease with the mix-tempo magical sound of Andrea Bochelli warbling his tunes. As my eyes scanned your concluding remarks, Con Te Partido reached its clarion denouement.      My life has entered a closed-circuit race track, moving at a snail's pace, bereft of any meaningful interactions save for my involvement in the Ruhi process, while interpersonal development has stilled as I desire not to rehash and recycle descriptions of my mundane and repetitive daily experiences to a large circle. 'Underwhelming' comes close to describe a life of shameless sleeping-in (the product of 2:00am nights), aimless hanging out, and the alarming daily viewing of three 1-hr downloaded episodes of Star Trek (sometimes more).         The one polypeptide-molecule of hope I possess, is that, for the first time in this unemployed academic's terse existence, the importance of reading books has been manifested and the perseverance to read them in their entirety, has befallen me in prescribed quantities. From mastering the art of reading the first 30-pages of any book to plowing through 350+ pages of Shoghi Effendi's exquisite translation of Bahá'u'lláh's weightiest text (Gleanings). From there "The Millionaire Next Door", a two-year acclaimed bestseller documenting the frugalness of America's wealthy, was the next to fall victim of a revolution that has implanted in me the sheer capacity and tenacity to trudge through any book full course. "Writing Well" has now found its way onto the 'hit list' and awaits a similar fate. The pattern which I hope to establish is of reading repeating cycles of one Spiritual book, one Business book, and one English book.         This is part of an overall directive which states, in no uncertain terms, that books of mine not read in 5 years, will be unapologetically and unremorsefully given away. I had found myself in the unenviable position of having well-stocked shelves of choice, well-organized books that sat lonely and unread--close to 100 in all. At my anemic reading rate of 1 book every 2 years, it would take me over 3 full lifetimes to read those books. That was embarrassingly unacceptable and precipitated my ambitious 5-year plan. Incontrovertibly, this initiative will serve to increase my overall knowledge, but additionally it is well-hoped that such an exercise eases the way for the cultivation of wisdom and prudence, sagaciousness and rectitude.       I can feel the swelling droop of my eyelids as the onrushing morning quickly approaches to herald another day of idle nothingness and limited meaning. Upon securing a job my outlook will undoubtedly be uplifted to the past water mark, and with time, reading, patience and maturation, "ascend up from [my] prison unto the glorious meads above." Your e-mail was well-timed and well-received.     Your dearest friend,         Martin