Sometimes you experience pleasure from not writing. At times, you enjoy not talking. Occasionally, you feel delight in not eating, or not drinking, or not breathing. Sometimes, there even flashes a thought about the bliss of complete, final, and irreversible inaction.
But then everything returns to its usual course: you write in haste, talk incoherently, eat indiscriminately, drink hurriedly, breathe mindlessly, and chaotically try not to think about the impending absolutely complete, utterly final, and entirely irreversible inaction.
Alisher Faizullaev 