I just finished reading “This Book Does Not Exist” by Mike Schneider. I read it, start to finish in a single sitting; not because it was the greatest book I’ve ever read, but because it held my attention and made me think and that, really, is all I ever hope for from any book.
I am filled now with a sense of peace. I feel like Nan in that episode of the Twilight Zone right after she (spoiler!) discovered she was dead. No more fear, no more anxiety, the sudden and inexplicable understanding that everything is as it should be. A favorite phrase of mine: ‘the suicide’s calm.” The moment in which one realizes that yes, he will go through with it, whether in blood or sleep or blue, he will do it and everything is as it should be.
No, don’t for a moment believe this is a suicide note. I have been lost, alone in a sense, and afraid that I chose poorly…
But no! All is as it should be. I have learned, am learning, will (hopefully) always learn from that which transpires, by my own hand or by others, and I will write. That, as ever, is paramount. No, this is absolutely not such a note. This is a documentation of the moment, a reminder to myself that always, no matter what, everything is beautiful and nothing hurt[s].
illogical labyrinths 
