Last night was quite special. Each time I woke up in the middle of the night, and I woke up three or four times, like usual as of late, I was overwhelmed with joy on the thought that I would be writing tomorrow. The subject was immaterial. Writing as such made me so happy each and every time. As the night progressed, the joy of writing got mixed with the joy of having written so much already. In a week or two, I will have no less than fifteen-thousand pieces written. It did not even cross my mind last night to write about the double joy of writing this morning, but the thought came to me as soon as I woke up for the last time. Thus this piece, it goes without saying. When I got out of bed, I went straight to the desktop in my study to check my records. Indeed, there are only thirty-five pieces of writing to go to fifteen-thousand. Counting this piece, there are thirty-four to go. Hooray!

Addendum (November 13, 2015)

As soon as I came across this piece in one of my unplanned journeys through my magnum opus, I thought of yet another joy of writing: reading what I have already written and occasionally extending it by means of addenda. Eighteen months later, I have close to seventeen-thousand pieces that are extended by close to three-thousand addenda. All told, this amounts to nearly twenty-thousand exercises in writing, each one of which is a joy all by itself. In short, the triple joy of writing would have been a more appropriate title for this piece. But not to worry. I would not be surprised by yet another addendum about the quadruple joy of writing any time soon. And the fourth joy could well be about the anticipation of all the wonders of writing that are to be discovered in the fullness of time…