"The Meaning of Life is That It Stops." -Franz Kafka
A great writer, Franz Kafka despised writing, often washing his mouth out with soap to prevent his linguistic trysts. Friend and fellow writer Max Brod discouraged this. But not understanding Franz Kafka’s plight and wishing to write like him, eventually Max Brod too started washing his mouth out with soap, albeit with a slightly more expensive brand. Learning of this Kafka immediately discontinued the practice, soon perishing of tuberculosis. In protest Max Brod sulked and lamented and grieved. Then published the writing Franz Kafka asked to have burned following his death. “I am made of literature; I am nothing else and cannot be anything else,” Franz Kafka, despiser of literature, once said while alive. An explanation isn’t an answer. A word means neither its origin nor the dumb letters that contain it. Nothing is Kafkaesque.