Quarter after one in the morning.
I got a little bit of sleep since nine o’clock tonight, and kept dreaming of a book by Erasmus called The Praise of Folly. I may never learn the significance of this book to me. It was part of the old literary canon, now all but obsolete, making me feel like an anachronism. In fact, the book somewhere describes the silliness of mistimed wisdom, which my life seems to epitomize. But even the existence of an anachronism must have some kind of a purpose, or else I could just stop writing, get a mindless job, dissipate my brain away, and perish into obscurity. Would any sort of God be pleased if I spit in my own face and just gave up my projects? I’ve got 583 followers on WordPress, acquired over four and a half years. Some bloggers have more than ten thousand followers. I don’t know how they do it. I’m only a tiny blip on the website’s radar, yet I still persist to chuck up nuggets of misplaced wisdom. It’s almost as if I were a mummy brought back to life to explain the ways of antiquity. Maybe that’s my task in life: to be an archivist of old stuff, bringing up the rear of the process of history, crystallizing life’s events to perfection for all posterity.
And to do it with beauty and style.
robgradens 
Yet you do make an impact, at least on me. I often find myself pondering the things you write, though I don’t express it every time. For instance, i just spent the last several minutes looking for this particular line, to meditate upon it, because it spoke to me: ‘The consequence of repression is sterility, this feeling of a kind of living death’.
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Well, thank you very much for being a loyal follower. The things I say are meant not so much as answers as questions and invitations to inquire and debate what is the truth. It is good that you read and think about my stuff as long as you don’t take it too literally. And I hope you have a brilliant day today. Thanks again, my friend.
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