#111 April 21.

#111 April 21.

Angst is not an external subject or a philosophical “school.” To the degree
that it is anything, I think it’s an overwhelming feeling … like a bad
acid trip or hearing that your parents have just been killed or you’re
about to be executed or imprisoned for life. It’s also a feeling lots of people
seem to get after the syllogism of death hits home. To paraphrase Proust,
at first we feel: “All men are mortal, [fill in your name] is a man, therefore
[fill in your name] is going to die. But not [your name] who was called [nick-
name] as a two-year old, who had the little stuffed bear named [name] and went
to his aunt’s house and ate those little cakes and went fishing with his father
…” not ME me, just abstract me dying abstractly but still I’m there watching
it all unfold.

And then it hits you and you realize it all really is in vain … that you
are building sandcastles … eternity follows you around and keeps you up
at night talking in your ear. You don’t give a shit what Nietzche or anyone
else had to say about anything … all you care about is yourself, and you
realize how truly alone you are.

-David “Schopenhauer” Pennell

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