Thursday, July 06, 2006


To try and improve my blogging I am reading "Franz Kafka: Letters to Milena". before BLOGS, there were letters. I still remember when I found Franz Kafka's "america" in the local library in Knutsford. I was hoping that my writing would turn more outwards, rather this strange and crazy persuit of inner sanity. Kafka is fairly self obsessed. He is writing to woman, but it is clear that Kafka is shielded from normal emotion by a wall of words. Here is a quote from a letter by Kafka
Writing letters .. means to denude oneself before the ghosts, something for which they greadily wait. Written kisses don't reach their destination, rather they are drunk on the way by the ghosts.
Cool, eh.. I was going to look up what "denude" means, but as I copied the lines from the book, it became clear. If at work I write "unquench", then perhaps I am allowed to use denude at home. I am losing faith in myself, I will look up up "denode" later.. Kafka says
It occurs to me that I can't remember your face in any precise detail. Only how you finally walked away between the tables of the coffee-house, your figure, your dress, these I can still see.
Kafka dude, you are telling the chick she has an ugly face. Also, what is this "finally" word telling her. Gosh, if I could spin and weave these words into mighty tales, perhaps I too could be arrogant and rude.