Their laughter was like the stridulation of the ghosts of grasshoppers.
It is this outer reach of existential abnegation _ the moment where subjective identity deserts itself and becomes enslaved without consciousness of its subjugated condition _ that Mirbeau consistently sought to decry with horror.
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It is this outer reach of existential abnegation _ the moment where subjective identity deserts itself and becomes enslaved without consciousness of its subjugated condition _ that Mirbeau consistently sought to decry with horror.
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So, I poisoned his coffee this morning and watched him drink it.
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There is no light at the end of the tunnel for us. We are who we are.