|(quoted from Domaine [Domain])|
I'm counting the days, but its not mathematics.
Last night I thought how strange it is to have stopped working. Mathematics were my greatest joy. I thought they were a way to create order out of chaos. I thought chaos was an illusion, with structures hidden behind it.
There was so much left to do. Gödel's theorem to integrate, but I didn't. I'm not lazy, but I lost my concentration. Everything was in disorder. I'd get an idea and run to my desk. But the blank page erased my idea. Where did it go? It vanished without a trace. And I'm sure it was a good idea.
It's difficult to maintain a thought and express it clearly. Talk, talk, talk. You must say something consistent to be heard. I master nothing but abuse everything. Because I have a frightening memory and nothing to transmit. Serving no purpose, serving no purpose. You clean your room, wash your bathtub, give old clothes to the poor, but that's not serving a purpose.
At some point you can no longer tidy, disorder is permanent. I can no longer find words to express it. Mathematics are no salvation. Useless, totally useless. Gödel is useless. Quantity and order are useless.