separation, inadequacy

The tragedy is not that we are alone, but that we cannot be. At times I would give anything in the world to no longer be connected by anything to this universe of men.

— Albert Camus, Notebooks 1951-1959

I feel as if every single person I meet takes something away from me. They take a part of me, bit by bit, every waking moment of every day. I go home and I’m alone. It’s night and I’m awake. I’m alone and aching, aching for the parts that people take, the ones I give, the ones I don’t give, the parts stolen and missing. I look at my photographs and I’m disgusted because I’m slowly leaving my own body, my own self. I no longer am myself. I am the parts I lack.


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