A horrible thought: could this be the pattern of my life ahead? Every ambition thwarted, every dream stillborn? But a second’s reflection tells me that what I’m currently experiencing is shared by all sentient, suffering human beings, except for the very, very few: the genuinely talented – the odd, rare genius – and, of course, the exceptionally lu

And suddenly I wonder: is it more of my bad luck to have been born when I was, at the beginning of this century and not be able to be young at its end? I look enviously at these kids and think about the lives they are living – and will live – and posit a kind of future for them. And then, almost immediately, I think what a futile regret that is. Yo

Why do we urge ourselves on in this way, us journal-keepers? Do we fear the constant threat of backslide in us, the urge to tinker and cover up? Are there aspects of our lives – things we do, feel and think – that we daren’t confess, even to ourselves, even in the absolute privacy of our private record? Anyway, I’m sure I vowed to tell the truth, t

The spleen. My ruptured spleen. I looked the word up in an encyclopedia. ‘A small purplish red organ that lies under the diaphragm. The spleen acts as a filter against foreign organisms that infect the bloodstream.’ In the crash my spleen burst. In medieval times the spleen was regarded as the source of melancholy emotions in man. Hence ‘splenetic’

A day of total solitude, of tranquil and perfect beauty by the river. A form of happiness I must try to recapture more often.

And for some reason this makes me contemplate my own life, all my sporadic highs and appalling lows, my brief triumphs and terrible losses and I say, no, no, I don’t envy you – you slim, brown, confident boys and girls and whatever futures await you. I will gather up my belongings and wander back to the Hotel des Dunes and look forward to my supper

Very hush-hush, I said. How wonderful to be able to use that expression in all seriousness.

Maybe this is the answer – maybe this is how to find true contentment – to live your life within confined horizons. To set modest goals, achievable ambitions.

I have no home but all the ingredients of home.