Empty rooms full of you.

I have an uncle who ishas been living by himself sincefor a while. So, his bedroom in my grandparents' house ishas been empty since themthen. But for some unknown reason, I decided to visit his room yesterday night. And forto my surprise, I found a room full of old magazines, Spanish and English lessons and books from The Theory of Relativity to self-help literature. I realized that I hadfound who he was ten years ago. Everything was covered by dust and there was an accented moldy smell. What in heaven could be more attractive for a bookaholic? I almost could could almost hear angelic voices calling me. *If you were in a horror movie, you shouldn't follow any kind of voice; be smart for your own sake*.

I spent the whole night seeking magazines ofabout my interests and remembering the ones I've read when I was a child. I found the first book I read byon my own, which was Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter; and now its cover is kneaded and its pages are yellow and dropping out. But its history and sentimental value are totally intact.
And in that moment, I started to think about all the years my uncle had lived there. Did he learn Spanish and English the way he wanted? Did he read all those books? How many nights did he pass reading by "candlelight"? WhichWhat kinds of goals did he plan? And mainly, how many of them did he fulfill? How many of them are slumbering with the dust that permeates the air? Perhaps if I had taken a deep breath, they would have finally been able to find another person to dream them again.

But the thought that impacted me the most wasn't about the past, but the future. I thought about all my own books and magazines, my schools things, my notebooks filled with random texts I wrote. When I move out from my parent's house and If I won't be able to carry them with me when I move out of my parents' house, who will read them? I mean, it took years for me to finally open a supposedly "empty room". Who will be the future one to turn the key in the handle of my previous room and suddenly find my biggest treasure and experience all the same feelings I had that night?

I think this is a beautiful reflection and incredibly well-written, better even than some of my American classmates might write. You must have been studying English for a while; I wish I had this kind of command over any of the languages that I'm trying to learn.

Joe já fez uma coreção excelente, mas eu gostaria de complementar com duas sugestões.

***

(…) How many nights did he spend reading by "candlelight"? What kinds of goals did he set out for himself?