Random Notebook #10

 Wait patiently for this week to end up ruining and uprooting my world and turning everything into a misery beyond understanding.  But I will pray things work out this week with prayer and meditation.  Of course I will try my best to keep my writing to a maximum even if it’s just to keep the hand moving—and the reading, too, for God knows where life or death will take me, and whether or not there will be a desk and a library there.  In all of this there’s a mystery.  The mystery of the books I have not read yet—the mystery of all those empty notebooks clamoring to be filled with the ink of my mind and soul.  How deserted will they feel by the end of this week, by next month, by next year?  But God knows that despite my manly slips into sin, I try to turn the other cheek, to be meek and humble, to recognize at the moment the path to follow that is based in the faith that, deep inside, like Ann Frank said, people are good.  Could say the word forgiveness and mean it.  I know I have the power to stay away from this horrific darkness that blurs my way.  So, here I am about to finish another notebook.  I think I have finally learned what it means to be a writer, to embody that Kafka quote.  It took me years to unlearn the laziness and lack of discipline but once one finds one’s self on the other side of that border, one is surely never to go back to where one once was.  Writing is not dissimilar to meditation; one examines how one’s brain empties through the nib of the pen striking the page, as one would empty one’s mind and spirit through the act of breathing.  And like in meditation, there are a great number of hindrances that can take one’s mind somewhere else—God keeps us in the here and now, in eternal life.