Good digestions, the gray monotony of provincial life, and the boredom — ah the soul-destroying boredom — of long days of mild content. - Jean-Paul Sartre

We speak more freely of our emotional complexes than of our material condition or of our socio-professional milieu; we prefer to ask ourselves about the homosexual component of our characters than about the history which has made us and which we have made. We too are victims and accomplices of alienation, reification, mystification. We too stagger beneath 'the weight of things said and done', of lies accepted and transmitted without belief. But we have no wish to know it. We are like sleepwalkers treading in a gutter, dreaming of our genitals rather than looking at our feet.

He is dead, and my hatred has died with him.

My existence began to worry me seriously. Was I not a simple spectre?