Not much to write but going on but not on and on

May is here. It is a lovely month, one of my favorites. I don't know about you but my life is slowly getting back to normal. This is good in some respects and bad in others. Returning to normal does make me realize, yet again, how overextended I am prone to make myself. I keep thinking, "I need to do something about that."

More precisely, what I need to do about that is do less. I am pretty good at tinkering around at the margins just to make things work but I think what I need is more systemic than doing that. Anyway, I probably need to make my end-of-the-week posts less autobiographical.

Anyway, this was a long week. I am tired. It is okay to be tired. If it is okay to be tired, it is okay to rest. Rest is what I did last evening, which is why there was no Friday traditio. I am sure both of you were very disappointed (laughing emoji here).

It's weird trying to write when I don't have much to say. In the words of one of my favorite authors, Samuel Beckett, the words with which he ended his novel Unnamable:

It will be I? It will be the silence, where I am? I don't know, I'll never know: in the silence you don't know.

You must go on.

I can't go on.

I'll go on.

Actually, I won't.

Beckett also wrote: "Music always wins." I went back and looked up "Why music struck a chord with Beckett."

Beckett very much liked Beethoven's Sonata Pathetique, also known less glamorously as Piano Sonata Number 8 in C minor, Op. 13., very much, especially the final movement. So, our very late traditio is the third movement of Beethoven's Sonata Pathetique: