Omnia est nihil, nihil omnia

I awoke early after having gone to bed late. The hint of pain in my chest, still to tired to be able to open my eyes. Eventually I realized that I wouldn’t go back to sleep and found my way to the toilet out of habit. The apartment was cold so I un-nuded myself with a sweater that I fished out of the laundry basket while I sat peeing.

The day before I had gone through notebook after notebook to find and collect scattered notes about a project I might start after the current writing project is finished. Found all sorts of notes. A hundred ideas for short stories. Outlines for about ten novels. And the diary notes. Oh, my god. So much I’ve forgotten. Happiness, pain and sorrow all mixed up.

I was panicking. What should I do with all this material? When would I have the time do do something out of it? Where do I want to go? Where am I going no matter if I want or not? Is there even a point to choose a direction? Where do we end up? What’s the point, really?

I didn’t feel sad or depressed as I had been off and on for a long while according to the diaries. I felt nihilistic. But not in a negative sense – which I realized after a while. I think I’m a positive nihilist. Looking at the core message of the notes I had started to collect I found that one of my five magical statements summed it all up.

When finished on the toilet, washing my hands, looking deep into the reflection I decided that today I’m gonna dress entirely in black. Haven’t done that in quite a while. Although I’ll take milk in the coffee – I guess that’s the limit of how black my nihilism goes.