This page. "Write, write, left to right, till there's nothing...left to write". I begin this page with that statement. What is left to write?

My answer, I cannot write. In these few months, there have been many times I felt I needed to write; that, I would put under natural instinct. The need to talk is often the most when it is about a complaint. However I have come to appreciate that there is a certain futility in self-pity, and a certain stupidity too, and certainly a lack of manliness. Make no mistake---I dig "Boys don't cry, men do!"---yet for me, if only recently, the act of complaining reflects a weakness persistent, a weakness that any amount of "crying" would not imply, but which certainly comes forth when catharsis fails to rebuild---that weakness I reject.

We often come across the irony in the clichéd winner-lampoons-loser-then-loser-spanks-winner plot. (Did I write about that too?) We typically find such incidents amusing...but is it just that? Perhaps (and I am being plain polite here) we also like the idea of a loser spanking a winner---the so called "last laugh", the idea that everything has to even out eventually, and hope and wait for such a climax, certainly support it, and influence its precipitation whenever possible. That hope is inexplicable: it is a Camus absurdity. Again, make no mistake---I root for absurd hope. Yet, this entails that I understand futility when I can, and I prepare myself for it; I know the line, and when I cross it, I armour up for the consequences. There is a certain lack of care that precedes my hope, thus hope does not enslave me. The climax that never comes does not shock me by its absence. I do not complain.

I am getting ahead of myself, though. I do not understand this well enough. I can elucidate this in my mind; yet I cannot write too much down, since that gives it a finality that it may not claim. I must fear that there might be a Heisenbergian interference of clarity caused by the very act of writing; I must remember Wittgenstein's last line.

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What is left to right?