...I would like to live a little bit longer in this beautiful concentration camp.

Nonexistence. The society of the nonexistent. In the street yesterday a nonexistent person trod on my foot with his nonexistent foot.

Of course, living is another way of killing oneself: its drawback is that it takes so horribly long.

One cannot start a new life, you can only continue the old one.

You just sit there and tolerate it, the same way everything in this country is tolerated. Every deception, every lie, every bullet in the brains. Just as you are already tolerating bullets in the brains that will be implemented only after the bullet is put in your brains.

Talking is not enough; words don't clarify anything. I'll have to hit upon something, but what?

I refuse to adapt or integrate myself.