Monotony has settled itself into my daily routine lately ... a bit like the ongoing rain that seems to have made its way into our gray-looking days as if willing to stay ...
Apart from preparing myself for the forthcoming trips, my daily night "companienship" with Paul Auster and some failed attempts at writing down some of my innermost thoughts, the sole exception has been city wandering in a rather similar approach to the one Auster has so accurately described in "The New York Trilogy" I am currently reading.
"(...) was used to wandering. His excursions through the city had taught him to understand the connectedness of inner and outer. Using aimless motion as a technique of reversal, on his best days he could bring the outside in and thus usurp the sovereignty of inwardness. By flooding himself with externals, by drowning himself out of himself, he had managed to exert some small degree of control over his fits of despair. Wandering therefore was a kind of mindlessness."
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