I must be without remorse or regrets as I am without excuse; for from the instant of my upsurge into being, I carry the weight of the world by myself alone without help, engaged in a world for which I bear the whole responsibility without being able, whatever I do, to tear myself away from this responsibility for an instant.
Being and Nothingness
The sky is clouding over. And here now my old anguish; there, in the depth of my body, like a nasty wound that each movement irritates. I know its name. It is fear of the eternal solitude, apprehension that there won’t be any answer.
Anon asked: Gee, you really like Albert Camus, huh
He was the homie..