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Lohbado's resolution was to keep working on his memoirs, from start to finish. It's a game, or process of getting to know oneself. Have a look at what's going on in your mind. Play around with some of the memories or stories. There's no goal, other than to deepen understanding of existence, as opposed to floating around in confusion, or sinking into an ignorant stupor. Club Morono is a good place to spread out some of the pieces, which could eventually be assembled into a book.
The quality of the writing depends on whether it's written in the morning, in afternoon or at night. In the morning, the writing will be grumpy, with perhaps some despair or sense of hopelessness. In the afternoon, maybe one might try to make it coherent. At night, throw your hands in the air in a gesture of complete and total surrender. Very little was accomplished. Maybe within this lack of accomplishment lies the essence of Lohbado's wishful thinking. In wishing to write a narrative, the whole thing collapsed, like a house of cards. Maybe that's how it is with the journey of life. One is born, struggles to be an adult, tries to make sense of things, then death happens and perhaps one is none the wiser. Or maybe one learned something. But then it's over. So what are you going to do about it? Not much you can do.
The moral of the story, don't worry too much. Undertake the journey, or process. It may or may not amount to something. In any case, it doesn't matter, unless of course you're attached to ego and really want to leave a trace, or some sort of monument to oneself. If you're free of ego concerns, the process could be a lot of fun.