Ilaria’s Reviews > Nausea > Status Update

Perhaps one day, thinking about this very moment, about this dismal moment at which I am waiting, round-shouldered, for it to be time to get on the train, perhaps I might feel my heart beat faster and say to myself: ”It was on that day, at that moment that it all started.” And I might succeed - in the past, simply in the past - in accepting myself.

We were a heap of existents inconvenienced, embarrassed by ourselves, we hadn’t the slightest reason for being there, any of us, each existent, embarrassed, vaguely ill at ease, felt superfluous in relation to the others.

The past is a property-owner’s luxury.
Where should I keep mine? You can’t put your past in your pocket; you have to have a house in which to store it. I possess nothing but my body; a man on his own, with nothing but his body, can’t stop memories; they pass through him. I shouldn’t complain: all I have ever wanted was to be free.

I liked yesterday’s sky so much, a narrow sky, dark with rain, pressing against the window-panes like a ridiculous, touching face.