All was fullness and all was active, there was no weakness in time, all, even the least perceptible stirring, was made of existence. And all these existents which bustled about this tree came from nowhere and were going nowhere.
nauseaby jean-paul Sartre
Suddenly they existed, then suddenly they existed no longer: existence is without memory; of the vanished it retains nothing — not even a memory. Existence everywhere, infinitely, in excess, for ever and everywhere; existence — which is limited only by existence.
Movements never quite exist, they are passages, intermediaries between two existences, moments of weakness, I expected to see them come out of nothingness, progressively ripen, blossom: I was finally going to surprise beings in the process of being born.
I am the Thing. Existence, liberated, released, surges over me. I exist.