Today I have had a literature day

I read Hemingway's A Clean, Well-Lighted Place online -- they say it tells about the fear of nothingness -- and then read a few pages of Lolita. Lolita is dangerous, if you read a few pages of it you will easily read the rest of the book.

I even wondered if I should start writing short stories -- you know, short stories without any obvious allegorical meaning. Do I have any talent in it?

Lately the (allegorical) ideas have not given me any great pleasure any more. Is it because I have not found any good ideas, or is it because I have lost the ability to feel any pleasure? Ideas are like drugs, like alcohol: at some point alcohol does not give you any ecstasy any more. If that is true, maybe I should stop my thinking work? Not yet!!!