I look forward to the day when I will write nothing. Nothing at all. Not even a single addendum, let alone a full-blown piece no matter how short. And then another day just like it. And another. Like it was many years ago, when I wrote a single piece a week or a fortnight. Or even a month. But that propitious day keeps eluding me day after day. It is thus turning into a challenge of sorts. Even more, it is turning into a test of my acumen. As well as my valor. Daring not to write, to put it in a nutshell. Which amounts to daring not to think, either. Ah, I am already rushing ahead of myself!

Addendum I (March 16, 2016)

Less than a year later, I can already boast of quite a few days when I have written nothing. Nothing at all. As of late, I call them fallow days. There were two such in January, seven in February, and five so far in March of this year. This adds up to an entire fortnight already. The way I am going, I will have at least a month and maybe even two of fallow days by the end of the year. Daring not to write, indeed. As well as not to think, which is the real prize of the entire endeavor. The mother of all prizes, as a matter of fact. To my joy, I am not rushing myself any longer. Less than a year after this piece was written, I am daring not to write for true.

Addendum II (February 27, 2017)

Less than a year after the first addendum was written, I can boast of seventy-nine fallow days last year. And that amounts to two months and a half of writing nothing at all. Not a word. So far this year, I can boast of twenty-four such days already. There were twelve fallow days in January and another twelve in February. By the end of the year, there will be more than four months of this precious ilk, I reckon. Year by year, I will be doing ever better. This is my solemn promise. But daring not to write will remain a challenge for the foreseeable future—say, three or four years. And so does daring not to think, it goes without saying. Luckily, I am rushing ahead of myself no longer, and my Residua is my witness. To be sure, thinking and writing are very like brothers…