 I slept in the park last night. Not because I have nowhere to sleep – because I have. Just because I happened to stay there. I was in the park last night. I didn’t even have bread to feed the birds, let alone myself. Nevermind. No one can follow my expected life.  
I was never in love. Imagine that! And then I lost a leg in the war. No one can take those things away from me. When no one can take anything away from you, then you are on the one hand, a free man. Or- in a one-leg – free man. Well, everyone understands what I mean.  
What then is for me to sleep in the park while it is raining lightly. Nothing. What a fucking Sartre, Camus, or someone else. I am the living death.