The beginning has nothing to do with the end.
From Lafcalio Hearn's "In Ghostly Japan":
[...]From very ancient times, the writing of short poems has been practiced in Japan even more as a moral duty than as a mere literary art. The old ethical teaching was somewhat like this:-
"Are you very angry?-- do not say anything unkind, but compose a poem. Is your best-beloved dead?-- do not yield to useless grief, but try to calm your mind by making a poem. Are you troubled because you are about to die, leaving so many things unfinished?-- be brave, and write a poem on death! Whatever injustice or misfortune disturbs you, put aside your resentment or your sorrow as soon as possible, and write a few lines of sober and elegant verse for a moral exercise."
Accordingly, in the old days, every form of trouble was encountered with a poem.[...]
* * *
Dear Diary
Every. Single. Room. No matter which town I'm in that... table is there. I don't know if the innkeeper knows that placing that piece of furniture between the beds, right in the middle of the room, destroys the symmetry of space but it does. It's annoying to say the least, when I walk into a room and the first thing I see is that table. I would say that it's taunting me with its existence, but that would be ridiculous. Ratatosk and that girl, on the other hand... Speaking of which, how does Emil always manage to find me--
[...]From very ancient times, the writing of short poems has been practiced in Japan even more as a moral duty than as a mere literary art. The old ethical teaching was somewhat like this:-
"Are you very angry?-- do not say anything unkind, but compose a poem. Is your best-beloved dead?-- do not yield to useless grief, but try to calm your mind by making a poem. Are you troubled because you are about to die, leaving so many things unfinished?-- be brave, and write a poem on death! Whatever injustice or misfortune disturbs you, put aside your resentment or your sorrow as soon as possible, and write a few lines of sober and elegant verse for a moral exercise."
Accordingly, in the old days, every form of trouble was encountered with a poem.[...]
* * *
Dear Diary
Every. Single. Room. No matter which town I'm in that... table is there. I don't know if the innkeeper knows that placing that piece of furniture between the beds, right in the middle of the room, destroys the symmetry of space but it does. It's annoying to say the least, when I walk into a room and the first thing I see is that table. I would say that it's taunting me with its existence, but that would be ridiculous. Ratatosk and that girl, on the other hand... Speaking of which, how does Emil always manage to find me--