I dont know, Ive forgotten, it doesnt matter, I never knew, to have them carry me into my story. the words that remain, my old story, which Ive forgotten, far from here, through the noise, through the door, into the silence, that must be it, its too late. perhaps its too late, perhaps they have, how would I know, in the silence you dont know, perhaps its the door, perhaps Im at the door, that would surprise me, perhaps its I, perhaps somewhere or other it was I. I can depart, all this time Ive jour neyed without knowing it, its I now at the door, what door, whats a door doing here, its the last· words, the true last, or its the murmurs, the murmurs are coming, I know that well, no, not even that, you talk of murmurs, distant cries, as long as you can talk, you talk of them before and you talk of them after, more lies, it will be the silence, the one that doesnt last, spent listening, spent waiting, for it to be broken, for the voice to break it, perhaps theres no other, I dont know, its not worth having, thats all I know, its not I, thats all I know, its not mine, its the only one I ever had, thats a lie, I must have had the other, the one that lasts, but it didnt last, I dont understand, that is to say it did, it still lasts, Im still in it, I left myself behind in it, Im waiting for me there, no, there you dont wait, you dont listen, I dont know, perhaps its a dream, all a dream, that would surprise me, Ill wake, in the silence, and never sleep again, it will be I. or dream, dream again, dream of a silence, a dream silence, full of murmurs, I dont know, thats all words, never wake, all words, theres noth ing else, you must go on, thats all I know, theyre going to stop, I know that well, I can feel it, theyre going to abandon me. it will be the silence, for a moment, a good few moments, or it will be mine, the lasting one, that didnt last, that still lasts. it will be I, you must go on, I cant go on, you must go on. Ill go on, you must say words, as long as there are any, until they find me. until they say me, strange pain, strange sin, you must go on. perhaps its done already, perhaps they have said me already, perhaps they have carried me to the threshold of my story, before the door that opens on my story, that would surprise me, if it opens, it will be I. it will be the silence, where I am, I dont know, Ill never know, in the silence you dont know, you must go on, I cant go on, Ill go on. Samuel Beckett by Harold Pinter - The Unnamable Performance
Posted on: Fri, 22 Aug 2014 07:10:32 +0000
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