Rereading The Stranger by Camus

I have a friend who lives and dies on Camus and also Satre. I'm rereading The Stranger. I have read other things by Albert but I was never impressed with this one book, while she's adamant about the overall strength of it. I must say even this second time around I am not impressed. I'm not moved. I'm not hurt, or loved by it. I'm nothing; it's nothing. I do not get the appeal of something that does nothing to move you.

Another semester starts tomorrow.

Once I have graduated next May (assuming I'm not sabotaged again), I really won't know what identity I own. I've been a student for so long, I can't imagine not being one. At least it will be time to be a teacher again...a role I cherish when I'm abroad.

Indonesia. It's on my mind. I'm almost sold. Must get ESL license to solidify my plans.

Will be publishing some analog photography soon through Amanda.

Somehow I'm managing rent without working. It's very strange.

I'm sure I should look over my shoulder before the bubble bursts.

Something clicked in my mind, or How I Found Sanity Through Prozac.

Think the prozac is working. Things are ordered, hopeful and clear in my mind. I know what I have to do and I'm ready to do it to get the end result that I want. I feel inspired, and I'm feeling much more sane about my relationship.

All good things.

I've decided once I graduate I'm traveling. First, South, if they'll have me. No reason to stay in the same place for long periods of time. I'm free.

Times, they are a changin'.

My best friend is dead.
The girl I love is across the world and suffering.
My ex haunts my mind.
and the only person I want to talk to about it all is not returning my emails.


Life, I tell you. If it doesn't kill you, it kills you anyway.