an uncharacteristic life appreciation post

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i listened to tevvez' entrails and depressive silence's self-titled album while writing this

with my nintendo switch infatuation having run its course, these days when i'm not working, i spend my time in the hub of the city i live in. this primarily involves sitting on the stairs outside the town hall building, reading whatever book i have with me that day. i recently finished albert camus' "the stranger", which was a rather strange and depressing read. there is a passage however near the end of the novel that i felt is noteworthy

"I was assailed by memories of a life that wasn't mine anymore, but one in which I'd found the simplest and most lasting joys: the smells of summer, the part of town I loved, a certain evening sky, Marie's dresses and the way she laughed."

i currently find myself to be very alone. while i have always been rather reclusive, this is probably the first time in a long time where i have not a hint of a social support network, not even a single soul that i would call a friend or friend-adjacent acquaintance where i live. i try not to dwell on it too much since the bundled-up pain this realization brings is too much for one fragile mind to take in, but sometimes i can't help but despair. in such times i try to shift my focus and appreciate the little things that typically pass me by unnoticed. often while reading i put down my book and let my gaze wander, marveling at the sun setting behind the church towers, observing the passerbys, taking in the smell of cheap italian food being sold by two restaurants practically opposing each other. in those moments i can't help but feel a strong emotional connection to the world around me, particularly to the people sharing the stairs with me. i always wonder what goes through their minds right there and then, what emotions they're dealing with. unfortunately, my attempts to tap into the psychosphere remain just that: attempts

keeping this habit of observing in mind, it shouldn't come as much of a surprise then that i found the first half of "the stranger" extremely enchanting since it essentially consists of the narrator, a french guy named meursault, going through what seems to be a routine day in french-controlled algeria to him while describing the way he experiences and interacts with the world in a very concise and human manner. at one point, he takes a seat on his balcony before carefully, yet effortlessly observing the bustle of a sunday(?) evening in algiers. people going to and returning from the movies. children slacking off while trying to keep up with their parents. the local barber sweeping up hair. two women being flirted with by young hooligans passing by them. a football team returning from a match with their fans, all of them cheering loudly and even sharing their elation with the narrator by loudly proclaiming to him that they indeed had won. meursault spends multiple hours doing nothing but taking in his surroundings, somehow without getting bored - a concept no longer imaginable to our cyborg brains (or at least my cyborg brain)

what also left a mark is the way the protagonist makes decisions. he goes on to form relationships with a ragtag group of people simply out of passivity. when asked by his fling if he would marry her, he replies that it would all be the same to him, and if she really wanted to get married, then they could do it. it seems almost like he's a spectator in his own life. or like he's floating on the sea of life, continuously being taken to different shores by the waves and being fine with wherever they decided to take him. i'm pretty sure this is not the takeaway the author intended, but this indifference to things, this unconditional contentedness with the status quo, whatever it may be at the time, is very intriguing

today, i once more picked up a rather remarkable book entitled "the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy", left the house and made my way towards the city center. the amount of police vans i passed suggested an imminent violent armed clash with holed-up sovereign citizens. instead, i found a bunch of rainbow-flag-sporting kids assembling near the market. "christopher street day" it said on the banners above some of the vendor cars

usually it's somewhat tough for me to emotionally connect with strangers but on this day i felt unbridled joy. since i didn't know anyone there, i felt content just existing in the vicinity of the happening, trying to follow douglas adams' words on vogon poetry. the mood was infectuous, and i probably could have spent multiple hours just looking at people vibing. while i'm a raging heterosexual (the sheer fact that other men exist repulses me) and not much of a conscious ally, i found this celebration of diversity and, by extension, life to be charming and heartwarming. the person that looks at this generation, hugging, cheering, dancing to alphaville's "big in japan", and feels anything but second-hand elation and pride can not be of sane mind

what made the event turnout even better was the fact that i live in a state associated with lower-than-nation-average education standards and the recent surge of the far right. seeing so many open young people was a great relief. i had often wondered whether they really existed or if this place really was a boomer hellscape where one brain cell is collectively shared by roughly half of its voters. stumbling onto the csd in my old place of residence, berlin, feels like your average tuesday due to how diverse and "un-german" the state's population naturally is, but this one really felt like something special

I’m a negative of a person. All I want is blackness, blackness and silence - Sylvia Plath