Nah, he just comes to terms with it in the end.
Albert Camus wrote: "As if that blind rage had washed me clean, rid me of hope; for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, I opened myself to the benign indifference of the world. Finding it so much like myself—so like a brother, really—I felt that I had been happy and that I was happy again. For everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, I had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators the day of my execution and that they greet me with howls of execration."
I just had a dream where I met a family that lived on a farm house somewhere in Washington D.C. They had a kid (male, young teens) who they had decided to raise as if he were a pet goat. I'm not sure why they did that, but we (I don't remember who "we" consisted of) staged an elaborate kidnapping, of course nobody happened to be there to try to stop us.
We brought him to our place (once again, not sure what that was), and as socialization (he could talk and stuff) we made him shower and wear deodorant.
The rest of the dream consisted of us randomly wandering into strange (yet classy), outdoor, makeshift bars to try a series of strangely named beers my subconscious created. There was also a sex scene that involved me having sex with a woman who wore a space helmet (think that one episode of Venture Bros.); she could open the mouth hole so I could do some excellent lying-upside-down-on-the-edge-of-the-bed throat fucking.