This could be a Lovecraft horror story: "The Existential Diary of JMiller."

Week 3: These books are maddeningly incomprehensible. Dare I believe that it all really is just nonsense?

Week 8: Terrified. Today I "saw" it - the essence of angst - and yet at the same time I didn't see it, and grasping that contradiction is itself the act of seeing it! What will become of my mind?

Week 12: The nothingness! The nothingness! It "is" everywhere in its not-ness. I can not bear it - oh no, "not", the nothingness is even constitutive of my own reaction to it - aieee -

(Here the manuscript breaks off. JMiller is currently confined in the maximum security wing of the Asylum for the Existentially Inane.)