• Lena Gorelik

Five Minutes a Day. muc/02092014

I was told, you start a blog, you pursue the blog. If you feel like taking a break, you tell this to people. (This is, if people read your blog.) Obviously, you tell them on the blog. I didn’t. Didn’t pursue, didn’t tell. Don’t like rules. Don’t like pressure. Not good at pursuing things in general. Am I really?


Then, out of a sudden, months later, today, to be precise, I felt like going back to the blog. Back to Five Minutes a Day. Of course today I think, this is a feeling that won’t vanish. I will feel like pursuing the blog tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and the day after that. This I think even though I know about feelings vanishing very well.


Back to Five Minutes a Day. On a day when nothing special happened, and I have not a single idea why I feel like going back. Or writing in English. But then, I was told, nobody is reading this anyway after I vanished, so who cares.


A few days ago in a museum’s shop I discovered the book “Working on my New Novel” which contained nothing but tweets like “For those wondering, I am still working on my novel.” or “I’m working on my novel again, and it feels good, you guys. I love my mind.“ Who the hell would write or read or even buy this, I thought. Noting this just so I wouldn’t note that I don’t know how to finish this novel I started. Well, finish. There are still like two hundred pages to be written. (Five Minutes over. It was fun.)

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Habe ich vergessen zu notieren. Lief aber besser, glaube ich.

Muss mich zwischen Laufen und Schreiben entscheiden. Schreiben gewinnt, bin noch von gestern so ergriffen. Von den Gesprächen, von dem Denken, im Übrigen auch dem Denken über die Unmöglichkeit des Sch