There are two moments worthwhile in writing, the one when you start and the other when you throw it in the waste-paper basket. - Samuel Beckett

I do nothing, with as little shame as satisfaction. It is the state that suits me best. I write the odd poem when it is there, that is the only thing worth doing. There is an ecstasy of accidia — will-less in a grey tumult of idées obscures. There is an end to the temptation of light, its polite scorchings & consolations. It is good for children & insects. There is an end of making up one's mind, like a pound of tea, an end of patting the butter of consciousness into opinions. The real consciousness is the chaos, a grey commotion of mind, with no premises or conclusions or problems or solutions or cases or judgments.

La fin est dans le commencement et cependant on continue.

Go on failing. Go on. Only next time, try to fail better.