This is how I imagine Camus when I read his diary, and this seems like a good model for living: you go to a swimming pool in Algiers, swim, dry in the sun, look at the beautiful boys and girls, think really hard, look at the beautiful boys and girls, think really hard, write a sentence, rewrite the sentence, swim, dry in the sun, rewrite the sentence, think really hard, rewrite the sentence, look at the beautiful boys and girls, rewrite the sentence.
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