Hospitius was a 6th century holy/homeless/insane man whose feast day is (tomorrow) May 21st, and who was very likely enlightened, given his exceedingly strange life, which is summed up in "Englebert's Lives of the Saints" with these words alone:
"He lived till his death, loaded with chains, at the top of a walled tower, on the island of San Sospis at a league from the present town of Nice. He foretold the invasion of the Lombards, which, as far as he was concerned, left him in peace."
The first five words of Hospitius' life form a perfect, and perfectly succinct, elegy for every person.
I'd like this journal to become my walled tower, a scanned expanse of inner horizen. And more than just a little bit crazy--like the holy nutjob who inspired it.
Hospitius understood that we all wear chains, he just had the good sense to insure that his fastened him to a view of the French Riviera.