I am 19; I have been thinking about and completely terrified of death since I was 10. it has consumed my life for almost a decade - half of my life. the thought of eternity keeps me awake. literally - I have untreatable insomnia and I suspect this fear is the source. so, when I first read Camus, specifically the stranger, a year ago, I somehow completely understood the message and also missed it altogether. I thought: "oh, this is the answer I've been looking for! just enjoy life as much as you can and rebel against mortality!" or, at the very least "this is a new idea... maybe some other idea will come along later that will provide true solace." I can't say this actually provided me with any real comfort. but it fed a voice in the back of my head that would sometimes provide me with false "hope" on a deeply unconscious level/

every time I truly think about the depth of what death is, this little voice has, on some occasions, allowed me to retreat from pure dread into deluded semi-comfort. I imagine that small part is thinking: "if I just read the right book, discover the right philosophy, learn more about physics/the universe/a possible multiverse/the big bang/cyclic cosmological theories/the obscure and naive possibility of life somehow not ending with such finality, my terror can be resolved, and I can finally relax." Camus' role in that thought would be introducing me to the first philosophy that I could interpret as taking back agency or fighting the dread. alternatively, that small voice might be saying: "there is some deep comfort in accepting death in the way Meursault did, a comfort which I am still discovering." maybe the latter is a source of comfort or way of life for some people. it seems a rational interpretation. for me, these ideas are delusional. and I don't think they constitute the entirety of Camus' message.

today, as these things came to mind, I decided to look back at my Camus books. something incredibly obvious came to me that somehow either eluded me/I refused to accept a year ago: Camus is not really offering an "answer." in some sense, you could say he is (but not in the sense that would provide me with true comfort): his answer is "there is no answer, so enjoy the beauty and pleasures of life as much as you can without assigning moral or philosophical meaning to it." (maybe some will call this a misinterpretation; this is the extent of my knowledge, I am not experienced in philosophy just yet). but, in my eyes, he's also saying "you can never find that comfort you seek, the comfort which you believe will help you escape death in some way. the voice in the back of your head doesn't exist. you have to accept the absurd because you will never find that 'answer'". it could sound like these are the same thing said differently. and again, I know how obvious this is. sometimes we don't allow ourselves to come to conclusions we don't like. Camus is not some genius who has figured it out and can offer a spiritual path. he is just as lost and afraid as I am. he has no choice but to push forward, and that's all he advises me to do.

I can't really put my finger on what changed in my mind tonight or what "new thing" has come to me or been discovered. I described it as well as I could. whatever the case, something invoked a visceral response, and completely brought me to tears, when I went back over these books. I'm sure my words are convoluted and full of misinterpretations. but I wanted to share this with some of the people who might understand.