“So that I may say at all times, even when you do not answer and perhaps hear nothing, something of this is being heard, I am not merely talking to myself, that is in the wilderness, a thing I could never bear to do – for any length of time. [Pause] That is what enables me to go on, go on talking that is.”
“Ah well what a joy in any case to know you are there, as usual, and perhaps awake, and perhaps taking all this in, some of all this, what a happy day for me … it will have been. [Pause] So far.”
Samuel Beckett, The Complete Dramatic Works, faber and faber, 1968, p. 145 & p. 152.
Maybe some day I can say more. For now only this:
I’m sure not even my family would be able to find this.
I’m not even sure my family would be able to find this.
I’m even not sure my family would be able to find this.
I’m not sure even my family would be able to find this.
I’m even sure my family would not be able to find this.
Let alone anyone else. Let them alone, I say. Leave them the fuck alone. I wouldn’t bother them with this so don’t you go running around causing trouble for all of us. The truth is mostly better left unsaid. We’re mostly better left undead.
These are happy days indeed. I have a minute left. One happy minute. Let me put a smiley🙂 The minute is gone but I tell you: do not worry because these are happy days indeed. Happy days in which it is mostly optional to feel optional.
[Whilst quoting this I was listening to “Fifty Foot Combo”, “The Monstrophonic …” something or other (my iPod doesn’t display more of the album title so you will go have to find it yourself.”