I had planned for this newsletter to be about journaling but, as I should have predicted, it’s become too large a topic to handle in one week. Up late last night with a stack of five years’ worth of journals, I figured that I should take some more time and send something longer out next week instead.
So, as a teaser of sorts, here’s an excerpt from Franz Kafka’s diary from November 1, 1911:
This afternoon the pain occasioned by my loneliness came upon me so piercingly and intensely that I became aware that the strength which I gain through this writing thus spends itself, a strength which I certainly have not intended for this purpose.
and one from Virginia Woolf’s diary from January 4, 1936:
For, to tell the truth, my head is still all nerves; & one false move means racing despair, exaltation, & all the rest of that familiar misery: that long scale of unhappiness. So I have ordered a sirloin & we shall go for a drive. L. is happier: will now do his trees.
More to come next week.
ben tapeworm
on the turntable
from the discourse
How many billionaires are there? How many starlings? More details on Brett Favre’s massive welfare fraud.
from my incoming texts
“A beautiful chicken !!!”
“Also have you done your taxes?”
“OOOOH MY GOOD”
“He just lives in third man records and is hooked up to a matrix style vat of hair dye”
“tbh marcel themselves does not quite pull my heartstrings”
weekly wiki
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