EKSISTENSIALISME SARTRE PDF
Hasil yang keluar banyak sekali yang mengkaitkan de Beauvoir dengan Jean- Paul Sartre, seorang filsuf asal Perancis dan juga seorang. The PDF file you selected should load here if your Web browser has a PDF reader plug-in installed (for example, a recent version of Adobe Acrobat Reader). Jean Paul-Sartre was born and raised in a society that is changing the way of thinking. Changes that covers all aspects of life and can not be controlled and.
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Sign in with Facebook Sign in options. Want to Read saving…. Want to Read Currently Reading Read. Refresh and try again. Thanks for telling us about the problem. Return to Book Page. Preview — Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre. Nausea Quotes Showing of All these creatures spend their time explaining, realizing happily that they agree with each other. In Heaven’s name, why is it so important to think the same things all together.
You have to have energy, generosity, blindness. There is even a moment right at the start where you have to jump across an abyss: I exist because I think… and I can’t stop myself from thinking. At this very moment – it’s frightful – if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire. Eat, sleep, sleep, eat. Exist slowly, softly, like these trees, like a puddle of water, like the red bench in the streetcar.
Today it seemed to want to change. And then anything, anything could happen. This is what fools people: But you have to choose: I have had women, I have fought with men ; and I could never turn back any more than a record can spin in reverse. And all that was leading me where? To this very moment They sketch vague, pleasant shapes and then are swallowed up; I forget them almost immediately. What held me back was the idea that no one, absolutely no one, would be moved by my death, that I would be even more alone in death than in life.
I have no friends: The scenery changes, people come in and go out, that’s all. There are no beginnings. Days are tacked on to days without rhyme or reason, an interminable, monotonous addition. There is even a moment, in the very beginning, when you have to jump across a precipice: Thoughts are the dullest things.
They stretch out and there’s no end to them and they leave a funny taste in the mouth. Then there are words, inside the thoughts, unfinished words, a sketchy sentence which constantly returns: It’s worse than the rest because I feel responsible and have complicity in it.
For example, this sort of eksistensialismd rumination: I exist, I am the one who keeps it up. The body lives by itself once it has begun.
But though I am the one who continues it, unrolls it. How serpentine is this feeling of existing, I unwind it, slowly.
If I could ekssitensialisme myself from thinking! I try, and succeed: I think I don’t want to think. I mustn’t think that I don’t want eksisteensialisme think. Because that’s still a thought. Eeksistensialisme thought is me: I exist because I think. At this very moment, it’s frightful, if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing.
I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire: Thoughts are born at the back of me, like sudden giddiness, I feel them being born behind my head It is soft, so soft, so slow. The thing is that I rarely think; a crowd of small metamorphoses accumulate in me without my noticing it, and then, one fine day, a veritable revolution takes place.
But even my death would have been In the way. In the way, my corpse, my blood on these stones, between these plants, at the back of this smiling garden. And the decomposed flesh would have been In the way in the earth which would receive my bones, at last, cleaned, stripped, peeled, proper and clean as teeth, it would have been In the way: I was In the way for eternity.
Furniture light and solid, rooted in its present, a table, a bed, a closet with a mirror-and me. The past did not exist. Not in things, not even in my thoughts. It is true that I had realized a long time ago that mine had escaped me.
FILSAFAT EKSISTENSIALISME JEAN-PAUL SARTRE | Siregar | Yurisprudentia: Jurnal Hukum Ekonomi
But until then I had believed that it had simply gone out of my range. For me the past was only a pensioning off: You use them, put them back in place, you live among them: But they touch me, it is unbearable. I am afraid of being in contact with them as though they were living beasts.
There is nothing extraordinary in this, it is a small happiness of Nausea: No sooner than born, it is already sarte, it seems as though I have known it for twenty years. She must be miserly with her pleasures, as well. I wonder if sometimes eksistensilisme doesn’t wish she were free of this monotonous sorrow, of these mutterings which start as soon as she stops singing, if she doesn’t wish to suffer once and for all, to drown herself in despair.
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