Demain, grand départ; ou petite arrivée?
Je ne sais, seulement de mes yeux je verrais.
Quelques jours pour se rencontrer.
Demain sans doute je saurais…
Maybe you’ve understood by now that for men like myself, that is, melancholy men for whom love, agony, happiness, and misery are just excuses for maintaining eternal loneliness, life offers neither great joy nor great sadness. I’m not saying we can’t relate to other souls overwhelmed by these feelings, on the contrary, we sympathize with them. What we cannot fathom is the odd disquiet our souls sink into at such times. This silent turmoil dims our intellects and dampens our hearts, usurping the place reserved for the true joy and sadness we ought to experience.