In Times Which Seem Like Self-Psychotherapy He Says To Himself:
Oh, Vienna
Novel: Times 1–4, Chapter 44
Yes, I wish for these self same sensations
I made no plans for the weekend, and no one contacted me to arrange to get together; for the first time in a long time I would be alone, alone on my own, for sixty-six hours. I have no motivation to work on the mind map on Friday night, instead I set up a tick chart, to catalogue my longings, for each of the four women, as I spend this alone time, alone.
I ask myself if I could stay in the apartment all weekend, not resort to watching television, or using my computer; I decide that the music is to be Gregorian Chant, for the entire period. I also think that reading, writing, and drawing should be seriously limited, in the end I determine to eliminate them altogether.
I am becoming the hermit. My food will be plain, my diet is mostly to be soup, cereals, tea, and water. I will disconnect the telephone, switch off my mobile, I will become incommunicado. The prisoner in his cell comes into my mind, should I make a mark for every hour that passes. I think this is pretentious, but nevertheless I go along with the idea, the hourly strikes can be logged on to my longing chart.
