To give is not yet to receive.
To heal, that one has be hurt.
If there's no coldness, there would not be warmth.
But is it the other way around?
I'd like to be my own kind, stick to my own kind, but my poems ravel into different lines, into extreme categories.
If there is love, there is pain.
If I don't have a past, I only live in the present, and I possess a hint of future.
I have never found myself so much like Meursault, or perhaps Camus, I don't know.
I would like to hear Camus talk about his life, his darkness and light.
I wanted to find out how much I was like him, but I have only known him through Meursault.
I have known much about myself, through Meursault.
Yes, it is finding out who you are instead of receiving the author's messages.