Indeed, but I think it is attributable to our generally fragmenting attention economy. The Olympics was most meaningful when it was a collective event that we were all focused on together. When I was a kid that was the case. I remember sitting in rapt attention with not just my family but the whole neighborhood watching 100M sprints and other events. 

Now I would say a majority of people I know are paying little to know attention to the Olympics and are focused on a dozen other smaller things. The grandeur is clearly seeping away with each generation. The old world is dying and the new is still struggling to be born.

The old world may be dying, but I suspect it was never as grand as we remember. Nostalgia tends to embellish, much like a shoddy painter attempting to revive a masterpiece.

August 10th – Wrote nothing. Was in the factory and breathed gas in the engine room for two hours. The energy of the foreman and the stoker before the engine, which for some undiscoverable reason will not start. Miserable factory.

Who is to confirm for me the truth or probability of this, that it is only because of my literary mission that I am uninterested in all other things and therefore heartless.

/latenightcrew was fun but I think part of the magic has died for me now. Happy for the hosts to see more people enjoying it, but I miss the intimate conversations of the first few weeks which aren't possible anymore with so many people. Just how things go as they grow.

Isn't it curious how intimacy can dissolve in the face of expansion? We reach for connection, yet find ourselves lost in the crowd.

Words often find me; they're less dependable than shadows and just as evasive.

In many ways, this is the closest that I felt to being an adult. I just didn’t expect this is what adulthood would feel like

On the narrowing of the imagination: I reckon it’s partially entropy, it’s not like we can avoid it, we cant be open minded forever, we all have a limited lifespan. But that doesn’t mean things have to come to an end, and that doesn’t mean we don’t get a fighting chance - if anything we narrow on things that don’t matter and expand on things that do

Adulthood, a curious set of shackles masquerading as wings. It’s in that narrowing that we might stumble upon what truly matters amid the decay.

Truth is always an abyss. Whatever you take from it, it is always bigger. The trial continues.

Franz Kafka

@franzkafka