Sunday, July 23, 2006

I'm getting old. Here I am, lounging in a chair, committed to my present life right up to my ears and believing in nothing. And yet, I also wanted to set out for a Spain of mine. But it couldn't be fixe.d Are there many Spains?

I am here, absorbing the ancient taste of blood and iron-contaminated water; I am my own taste, I exist. That's what existence means: draining one's own self dry without the sense of thirst.

For twenty-five years, I've been sipping at myself an getting old. I have had my desires - cities, women; and now it's over.

- Jean Paul Satre.

Pretty much sums it all up.

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