(no subject)
For instance, here is a cardboard box holding my bottle of ink. I should try to tell how I saw it before and now. Well, it's a parallelopiped rectangle, it opens - that's stupid, there's nothing I can say about it. This is what I have to avoide, I must not put strangeness where there is none.
I think that is the big danger in keeping a diary: you exaggerate everything. You continually force the truth because you're always looking for something. On the other hand, it is certain that from one minute to the next - and precisely a propro of this box or any other object at all, I can recapture this impression of day-before-yesterday. I must always be ready, otherwise it will slip through my fingers. I must never forge, but carefully note and detail all that happens.
The strangest thing is that I am not all inclined to call myself insane, I clearly see that I am not: all these changes concern objects. At least, that is what I'd like to be sure of.
I'm going to bed.
I'm cured.
I'll give up writing my daily impressions, like a girl in her nice new notebook.
In one case only it might be interesting to keep a diary: it would be if...
END TRANSMISSION
I think that is the big danger in keeping a diary: you exaggerate everything. You continually force the truth because you're always looking for something. On the other hand, it is certain that from one minute to the next - and precisely a propro of this box or any other object at all, I can recapture this impression of day-before-yesterday. I must always be ready, otherwise it will slip through my fingers. I must never forge, but carefully note and detail all that happens.
The strangest thing is that I am not all inclined to call myself insane, I clearly see that I am not: all these changes concern objects. At least, that is what I'd like to be sure of.
I'm going to bed.
I'm cured.
I'll give up writing my daily impressions, like a girl in her nice new notebook.
In one case only it might be interesting to keep a diary: it would be if...
END TRANSMISSION