He was not such a special person. He loved to read very much, and also to write. He was a poet, and he exhibited me many of his poems. I remember many of them. They were silly, you could say, and about love. He was always in his room writing those things, and never with people. I used to tell him, What good is all that love doing on paper? I said, Let love write on you for a little. But he was so stubborn. Or perhaps he was only timid.
The passage reflects on a character who, despite not being perceived as remarkable, had a deep passion for reading and writing poetry. He often isolated himself in his room, pouring his thoughts about love onto paper, sharing some of his creations with the narrator. The poems, which the narrator describes as silly, showcase the character's dedication to expressing his feelings, albeit in a way that seemed disconnected from real-life interactions.
The narrator encourages him to experience love more actively rather than just documenting it, suggesting that he might be timid or stubborn in his ways. This dynamic highlights a tension between creativity and lived experience, questioning the value of pouring emotions into art when one might not venture into personal connections. The character's reluctance to engage with others serves as a poignant commentary on the balance between artistic expression and the richness of real relationships.
