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Nothing but an existential nihilist
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Taste of Cherry 1997
During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the
autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low
in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback,
through a singularly dreary tract of country, and at length
found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within
view of the melancholy House of Usher. I know not how it
was—but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of
insufferable gloom pervaded my…Translated from by
