(no subject)
"If someone had asked me what it means to be alive, I would have answered in good faith that it means nothing, merely an empty vessel... We were all just a pile of awkward lives, embarrassed by ourselves. We hadn't the slightest reason to be there, none of us. Every living being, confused, vaguely anxious, felt redundant... I was redundant too... I had vague notions of doing away with myself, to rid the world of at least one of these superfluous lives." -- Sartre, Nausea