In his moments of self-loathing doubt about his own direction and path in life, he took a walk into the city, not to escape the embers of his lingering depression, but to breath life into the flames of his heart. To chase off those thoughts of dead life by emerging into the nameless crowds, that is by encountering the endless numbers of individuals that formed the anima of boredom. To see the nothingness of his own soul being reflected in the masses of New York was the perfect serum to his depression and always worked. Crumbs we are, dust particles, dots in a distant present that wasn’t meant to last, vectors extended in a negative dimension, meaningless words.
The Phenomenology of Boredom
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