Sunday 6 July 2014


Still reading War and Peace, but all of a sudden I've had another attack. 
All of a sudden come up so many questions. Why read? Why write? Why have this blog at all? What have I been doing all of my life and what am I going to do? Why live? What's the point? 
So these days I haven't written much. In awe and then in despair I don't know what to write about a book of such size and scope- what a masterpiece!, and after jotting down a few sentences, a few trivial, superficial remarks, I can write no more. 
Everything seems pointless. 
I don't even know why I keep this blog. 


  1. I do know how you feel. In the face of something such as War and Peace, one can't help but ask oneself: "What can i write that could convey anything at all of what this book makes me feel?" But one has to write something: you can't keep it all locked up in yourself. I have been enjoying reading your thoughts on this.

    1. Indeed. And thanks for that.
      Sorry for my late reply, I've been travelling a bit.


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