thoughts on 'the outsider'

i don't want to say i loved the book, because ideas of love have no room in Camus's ' The Outsider.' intead i'll say this: there were moments when i felt i was peering into a mirror and catching glimpses of myself, and then there were other moments when i felt the protagonist, 'the outsider' himself, was the insider to me. for we connected.


for the past year or so, i have found myself as someone who is quickly able to detach from people, places and things. this was not always so. in fact, connections were very important to me once. and while they are still important to me now, i don't seek a connection everywhere, with everyone. i'm perfectly alright knowing that i have few friends, and even fewer close friends, because these connections are not easy to form, and can not be forged. once i needed many friends, now i create filters that screen out people who i think do not, and can not, understand me. and even when after all those filters someone gets through, i have barricaded myself using my experiences and my woe, my heartache and my heartbreak.

you can only get in so far.

but i digress. the book was eye-opening in that you have a protagonist who refuses to lie. Camus writes that lying is not only not telling the truth, but sometimes also telling more than the truth. how true. how truthful.

each day, i am finding it increasingly difficult to lie to myself, to pretend i want to be certain places with certain people (read the previous blog entry for more on that). i was taught lying was sometimes necessary to prevent people's feelings from being hurt, but what about what it does to me? it ensures i have to walk around being someone else. and i am no actress. really, i am not. moreover, it baffles me and boggles my mind. when i am invited out, i must conjure up some fantastic story as to why i can not attend, when the truth is, i don't want to be there. and since when did what we want, and what we need, no longer matter?

since when did the truth behind who we are and where we want to be, no longer suffice?
since when?
and since when have i been a reluctant follower?