A Flow of Nonsense

I feel calm and excited at the same time. I’ve accomplished something, and from now on I am free to do away with the cumbersome timestamps.

Dead End: A Philosophical Diary is about 355 pages, a concentration of nearly 30 years of scribblings. That’s enough. It spans 1987 through early 2014.

With this “work in progress,” I might just stick to writing essays in the manner of Cioran.

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