I dunno what made me stop. It took me almost a year to finally clicked * new post button here *. I tried unsuccessfully to write all what's happenings in my life, every now and then . I littered my desktop with blog after blog terminated midway, midthought... Just when I thought there wasn't room enough for another thought in my head, I had this great idea--call it a philosophy of life, if you will.
Briefly, it involved living the way philosophers live, according to a set of principles. OK, but which ones? That was the hardest part, I admit, but I had a kind of dark foreknowledge of what it would be like. Everything, from eating watermelon or going to the bathroom or just standing on a subway platform, lost in thought for a few minutes, or worrying about rain forests, would be affected, or more precisely, inflected by my new attitude.
I wouldn't be preachy, or worry about anything anymore , exceptin the general way prescribed by our clockwork universe. Instead I'd sort of, let things be what they are... while injecting them with the serum of the new moral climate. I thought I'd stumbled into, as a stranger accidentally presses against a panel and a bookcase slides back, revealing a winding staircase with greenish light somewhere down below, and he automatically steps inside and the bookcase slides shut, as is customary on such occasions. At once a fragrance overwhelms him --not saffron , not lavender, but something in between.
Sometimes I just thought there was nothing worthwhile to share to anyone. Eventually it kept me from trying at all.
So I got very quiet and very still. After a time, I just went to sleep....
