Albert Camus

Albert Camus

(Source: acknowledgetheabsurd)

Tags: albert camus

fading-fingerprints:

:)
"Sing me to sleep Sing me to sleep And then leave me alone Don’t try to wake me in the morning ‘Cause I will be gone”

"Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
And then leave me alone
Don’t try to wake me in the morning
‘Cause I will be gone”

(Source: lupetohee)

Shortly after 8 am on 30 July 2012 Tennessee Titans player O.J. Murdock drove his Dodge Challenger to his old high school in Tampa, FL and parked near the field where he had starred as a wide receiver in football and a sprinter in track and field. Earlier, he had texted several people, including Al McCray, who had coached Murdock at Middleton High and Fort Hays State in Hays, Kan., and Bill Ward, a sportswriter who had covered Murdock when he was in high school.
While sitting in his car, Murdock called Aesha Bailey, who had coached him in middle school track and field. Bailey and her husband had talked at length on the phone with Murdock the night before. They could tell that something was troubling Murdock, who had been due to report to training camp in Nashville the previous Friday.
"He’s frantic and he’s screaming," Bailey recalled. "‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! … I love you. I love you.’ And I said, ‘I love you, too, O.J.’ … Then he says, ‘I’m sorry, coach Brown.’ When he said that, I knew something was wrong. I haven’t been coach Brown since 2003. That’s my maiden name."
When Bailey asked Murdock where he was, she immediately got into her car and drove the short distance from her house to the high school. She was too late. Murdock had shot himself. 
Murdock was the 4th NFL player to commit suicide in 2012, following Kurt Crain (April 10), Ray Easterling (April 19), and Junior Seau (May 2).
Murdock had a college teammate named Kenny McKinley, who was drafted by Denver in 2009 and killed himself with a gun on Sept. 10, 2010.

Shortly after 8 am on 30 July 2012 Tennessee Titans player O.J. Murdock drove his Dodge Challenger to his old high school in Tampa, FL and parked near the field where he had starred as a wide receiver in football and a sprinter in track and field. Earlier, he had texted several people, including Al McCray, who had coached Murdock at Middleton High and Fort Hays State in Hays, Kan., and Bill Ward, a sportswriter who had covered Murdock when he was in high school.

While sitting in his car, Murdock called Aesha Bailey, who had coached him in middle school track and field. Bailey and her husband had talked at length on the phone with Murdock the night before. They could tell that something was troubling Murdock, who had been due to report to training camp in Nashville the previous Friday.

"He’s frantic and he’s screaming," Bailey recalled. "‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! … I love you. I love you.’ And I said, ‘I love you, too, O.J.’ … Then he says, ‘I’m sorry, coach Brown.’ When he said that, I knew something was wrong. I haven’t been coach Brown since 2003. That’s my maiden name."

When Bailey asked Murdock where he was, she immediately got into her car and drove the short distance from her house to the high school. She was too late. Murdock had shot himself. 

Murdock was the 4th NFL player to commit suicide in 2012, following Kurt Crain (April 10), Ray Easterling (April 19), and Junior Seau (May 2).

Murdock had a college teammate named Kenny McKinley, who was drafted by Denver in 2009 and killed himself with a gun on Sept. 10, 2010.

"He tried to recall what he had read about the disease. Figures floated across his memory, and he recalled that some thirty or so great plagues known to history had accounted for nearly a hundred million deaths. But what are a hundred million deaths? When one has served in a war, one hardly knows what a dead man is, after a while. And since a dead man has no substance unless one actually sees him dead, a hundred million corpses broadcast through history are no more than a puff of smoke in the imagination."

The Plague - Albert Camus (via falltothepage)

(via acknowledgetheabsurd)

"I love the dark hours of my being
in which my senses drop into the deep.
I have found in them, as in old letters,
my private life, that is already lived through,
and become wide and powerful now, like legends.
Then I know that there is room in me
for a second huge and timeless life."

— Rainer Maria Rilke, from A Book for the Hours in Prayer, trans. Robert Bly (via proustitute)

lillithblackwell:


"Everything is ecstasy, inside. We just don’t know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever. Close your eyes, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, stop breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, which was taught in immense milky way soft cloud innumerable worlds long ago and not even at all. It is all one vast awakened thing. I call it the golden eternity. It is perfect. We were never really born, we will never really die. It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It’s a dream already ended. There’s nothing to be afraid of and nothing to be glad about.”

Jack Kerouac, The Portable Jack Kerouac

lillithblackwell:

"Everything is ecstasy, inside. We just don’t know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever.
Close your eyes, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, stop breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, which was taught in immense milky way soft cloud innumerable worlds long ago and not even at all. It is all one vast awakened thing. I call it the golden eternity. It is perfect. We were never really born, we will never really die. It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It’s a dream already ended. There’s nothing to be afraid of and nothing to be glad about.”

Jack Kerouac, The Portable Jack Kerouac

"I’ve got to
decide:
kill myself or
love myself?"

— Charles Bukowski, from Cows In Art Class  (via perfect)

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via perfect)

mjcox:

Sarah May 
"Art is jealous and demands all our time and all our strength, and then when we dedicate these to it, it leaves rather a bitter taste to be taken for some kind of impractical person and I don’t know what else. Well, we just have to try and battle on."

— Vincent van Gogh (via vincentvangogh-art)

(via vincentvangogh-art)