First we managed 7 days, and then we managed.. what, 9? Now we have to do somewhere around 75. Christ. How can I start this?

I guess it's indicative that even now, sitting down with the express intent of writing some kind of valedictory daylog, and having even thought about what I want to say, I can't motivate myself to type it. But let's not go there yet. It's boring.

Far as I can reckon out, being in love, is a strange thing. Sure, all my radical are already, but. I read somewhere on here that wisdom cannot be written down. That stayed with me.

There's a lot I will never node. From my unwritten epic on the e2/french revolution connection, (who's Danton?) to my hours of darkness contemplating the noding of all 108 Michaelangelo sonnets, to musings on intrusions on personal dignity and photography and dentistry that I could never quite sculpt into cogent enough of a thought to call it node, to my brief determination to do a thorough job on a load of Georges Brassens. I have another quest idea, but the likelihood of it not getting done by someone else in the next few years seems very slim.

Going about your daily life, you know how you run several mental processes at once. You're thinking about the person you're meeting for lunch, you're also mulling that book you finished last night, you're pondering that big issue at the back of your mind, you're probably trying to work out the person you're currently talking to. It's interesting, because I find that almost all of my mental processes and machinations are obliviated by the immense and constantly significant epiphany that this is all that matters. It's a very interesting phenomenon.

E2 has been my sole hobby for about 18 months. I've assimilated between 10 and 15 people directly. One thing it took me a while to realise is, everything is more TV. I'm not rigourous enough to learn from it, so I stagnate instead. Another was that the community of e2 is as such a surrogate, or even just as valid a replacement for real interaction. I've noticed that generally, the more I have to do, the less I am here. Draw whatever conclusions you like about empirical evidence here. Perhaps, the more self-respect you have, you less you care about, etc.

So, I'm going to India now. To an extent, I won't detail what has passed, because I needn't. I'm scared, of course, because transience because human nature because uncertainty, because three months is a long time, but, but. My inner platitude whispers to me that it'll be alright. So do my close friends who've been here too, and that I value rather more. Hope. Hope.

So, this isn't goodbye at all, because I don't think I'm that big. When I'm writing a 2000 word essay every week, I wonder whether I'll try to get the cheap respect of strangers for it here, and I think that perhaps I will. I've realised that I've learnt more about myself and other people in the last 4 months than in any other period. Now, e2 should be the reason, and e2 isn't the reason. Perhaps a little disillusionment has sprung from the realisation that a degree of acceptance has been offered me despite mediocity.
Sadly, it's so plain that e2 means nothing that it's difficult to dress this up as insight.