honestly? i don’t really understand camus


dear ____,

it’s already afternoon. I woke up early even though I came home at four in the morning last night. when I finally went to bed, there was already a strip of light on the horizon and I knew it was time to forget about this world for a few hours. I couldn’t really sleep. the night has brought a lot to me. I am not sure. I was thinking about lots of things, I guess I had one of those nights when I couldn’t stop my thoughts from being out there. but it’s not that hard and it’s not that complicated. I was thinking about los pasos perdidos but couldn’t remember what it was called. I tried to explain my feelings but I was too far away and couldn’t keep track of myself. I wished I could be somewhere. somewhere in south america, lost on a motorcycle with a small dog in my backpack. what is simplicity?

it’s strange how I remember every single word from our conversation. it’s strange how I keep replaying it in my head and almost flinching when I remember something I said. why did I mention camus in the first place? I am not too sure. I got swallowed by the mysteries of existentialism its questions and my own which are directed against it. and you’re probably right. I am too young to be thinking about any of that. I should be somewhere with my friends. but I like this better. why? because I hate the drama around me. too much drama everywhere and I can’t stand it.

I wish I knew more about you. about your broken heart, scars and tattoos, and why you ended up in a city like hong kong. I wish we could talk about film, the art and colors of your native land, about the people there. I was always drawn to that part of the world, even though people keep telling me I would never survive there. not even one day. maybe it’s for the wrong reasons. I don’t know. how do you define reasons? how do you define anything? when I said I needed balance what I meant was I am tired of feeling too much of everything. I lack stability in my emotions because certain people are too far away in my life and I need them closer. so I replace them. by talking to strangers and revealing more about myself than I would ever. because it’s easy for me. because I don’t care what people think.

because it doesn’t matter. it can’t possibly matter. why would anyone care about what one has to say in the middle of a hidden street in a city of millions where people keep going on with their lives as if nothing else interests them. people pretend to care about each other because it’s a nice thing to do, weird moments and looks start when you actually grow to care about someone, because you really do. not because you need reasons, or because you’re lonely. I wish I could make it simple, use lighter words and make this whole thing go away. but the truth is I am too observant and too ignorant at the same time not to mention certain things. I have say what I think. I can’t help it. and right now I am thinking I am a whole lot closer to my inner balance and being content than I was this time yesterday. why? I am not sure.

maybe you should ask stevie wonder. he knows answers to some things.

signed oscar wilde.