day 141

i've told you about this story i'm thinking about, right? its topic is "living in big cities" and although i've spent the better part of my life in big cities, i can't seem to think of anything remotely interesting. or, if i do, i feel i wouldn't enjoy writing about it. so while i know that most people i've been talking to do understand that i get slow phases in between writing periods, i'm afraid they aren't quite aware of the actual length of those times. or, how much i hate them. i mean, how would you explain to someone that, no, you're not actually working, and, no, you can't just make something up, because that's of no use. i hate writing things when there's no creative or artistic add of value. like harry said to sally: so you wanna become a journalist to write about other people's lives? ... NO, darn it!!!

i'm reading oriana fallaci's the rage and the pride (next will be: the force of reason), which is a truly wild book. you should read it, should you get a chance. she wrote it after 9/11 and in it talks about her perception of the muslim culture, cultural heritage in general and the dalai lama in a popeye t-shirt.