I’m trying something a little different today by posting from my phone. Let me know if you see any formatting problems!

I found this interesting Twitter account called Franz Kafka diaries. I’ve never read one of his books, but based on these diary entries I really need to. Many of them are poetic in nature, revealing of his inner most thoughts that make you feel weirdly close to a dead person. This one for example will probably strike true for many a writer.

’21 October. For four days almost no work at all, only an hour or so all the time and only a few lines, but slept better; as a result almost got rid of my headaches.’

A lot of them are Kafka expressing his suffering, but some of them end up far, far in the opposite direction like this one:

’18 October. Eternal childhood. Life calls again. It is entirely conceivable that lifes splendour forever lies in wait about each one of us in all its fullness, but veiled from view, deep down, invisible, far off. It is there, though, not hostile, not reluctant, not deaf. If you summon it by the right word, by its right name, it will come.’

I won’t post too many of these and ruin them for you, but do check them out if you’re interested. Fair warning, if you’re like me, you might think it feels kinda weird to delve into someone else’s diary though. Gonna have to rig a system to explode mine if I don’t send a text within 24 hours or something if I ever start keeping one.

Thank you for reading,

Benjamin Hawley