what's done is done, and in the future there will be robots

i am starting to love it here.
in an eerie, alone, relaxed, strained, crushing, beautiful kind of way. i love my attic room with the beams and slanted ceiling and i love sleeping and writing letters and working at night time without being under pressure. i love eating fruit for breakfast, lunch and tea and watching monsieur catalas weeding his vegetable garden. i love the silence of the lake, queer emptiness, peaceful melancholy.
i haven't spoken to anyone except my parents for days. i miss company. i miss london.
i could get used to this, though. a quiet life. i don't have to do anything. i just let hours slip by unnoticed... it all blurs into one. i went into town this morning. and bought some blue tack and post-it notes. then i came home and ate pasta and stuck things all over my wardrobe door. strangely soothing.

it's been weird this summer though. like a transition. i think all my feelings have been transformed. i feel different. not older, or wiser. and i haven't become religious. or right wing. i just feel... happy.
actually, catch me again in a few hours after i've had a bitter argument with my mother or something and i'll probably be my usual depressing, distressed, angsty self.

it's funny though. you realise who you are really close to when you are away from everything. you can just reflect in a really neutral, unbiased way.

jesus this is garbage. no. i'm stopping. sorry.

hi! it's me! how are you?!

the thing about existentialism, though, is that you feel you have a huge weight of responsability on your shoulders. you can't just drift, you have to struggle, to fight, to perservere. it seems unecessary sometimes. why bother seeking something deeper when you can just drift and float and let life do the talking?

it's interesting. and confusing. camus' main idea is about the absurdity of the world, and how we, as humans, must try and make sense of it. 'la contingence' en français. according to sartre the fact that we live life without even a god-given purpose is almost unbearable for us. we always look for order, purpose, reason, even in our lifestyle and routine.

existentialists believe that disguising this aburdity is a restriction of your personal liberty. 'the human condition is fundamentally miserable by nature' as pascal said. sartre uses the term 'l'angoisse' to mean the anguish, agony, distress: the human suffering we must endure to reach conscientious freedom....

depressing, isn't it?
*moving swiftly away from pondering philosophical thoughts...*

might go and eat some avocado now. and cheese. and watermelon. and peaches. lots of them.

sorry this is another irritating stream of consciousness.
i love you. deeply. and i hate you. i'm sorry.
x