Wednesday:
I must not be afraid - for saxophone quartet
*
from the diary of Antoine Roquentin
...Saturday
the children were playing ducks and drakes and, like them, I wanted to
throw a stone into the sea. Just at that moment I stopped, dropped the
stone and left.
Monday:
...just
as I was coming into my room, I stopped short because I felt in my hand
a cold object which held my attention through a sort of personality. I
opened my hand, looked: I was simply holding the door-knob.This morning
when the Self-Taught Man came to say good morning to me, it took me ten
seconds to recognize him. I saw and unknown face, barely a face. Then
there was his hand like a fat white worm in my own hand.
There
are a great number of suspicious noises in the streets, too.
Tuesday:
...Objects
should not touch.
because they are not alive. You use them, put them back into place, you
live among them: they are useful, nothing more. But they touch me, it
is unbearable...
...Now
I see: I recall better what I felt the other day at the seashore when I
held the pebble. It was a sort of sweetish sickness. How unpleasant it
was! It cam from the stone, I’m sure of it, it passed from the
stone to my hand. Yes, that’s it, that’s just it, - a
sort of nausea in the hands.
Wednesday:
I
must not be afraid.
-
Jean Paul Sarte, Nausea