Above: Samuel Beckett outside a Parisian café, 1988 via: weekenderonline.net
.
I don’t know: perhaps it’s a dream, all a dream. (That would surprise me.) I’ll 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 don’t know, that’s all words), never wake (all words, there’s nothing else).
You must go on, that’s all I know.
They’re going to stop, I know that well: I can feel it. They’re 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 didn’t last, that still lasts? It will be I?
You must go on.
I can’t go on.
You must go on.
I’ll 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 it’s 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 don’t know, I’ll never know: in the silence you don’t know.
You must go on.
I can’t go on.
I’ll go on.
.
~Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable, 1953

Above: Samuel Beckett outside a Parisian café, 1988 via: weekenderonline.net

.

I don’t know: perhaps it’s a dream, all a dream. (That would surprise me.) I’ll 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 don’t know, that’s all words), never wake (all words, there’s nothing else).

You must go on, that’s all I know.


They’re going to stop, I know that well: I can feel it. They’re 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 didn’t last, that still lasts? It will be I?


You must go on.


I can’t go on.


You must go on.


I’ll 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 it’s 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 don’t know, I’ll never know: in the silence you don’t know.


You must go on.


I can’t go on.


I’ll go on.

.

~Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable, 1953

  1. die-winterreise reblogged this from artemisdreaming
  2. waterfalia reblogged this from arw126kc135
  3. arw126kc135 reblogged this from artemisdreaming
  4. le-roi-pharaon reblogged this from artemisdreaming
  5. misanthropistheaven reblogged this from theantidote and added:
    Samuel Beckett outside a Parisian café, 1988 I don’t know: perhaps it’s a dream, all a dream. (That would surprise me.)...
  6. ramblerplanetaryservice reblogged this from skyozlem and added:
    Waiting…
  7. skyozlem reblogged this from artemisdreaming
  8. lillianrib reblogged this from lenalello and added:
    “As palavras são manchas desnecessárias sobre o silêncio e o nada” - Samuel Beckett
  9. ambient-tanks reblogged this from iffranco
  10. iffranco reblogged this from catherinewillis
  11. lifekeepsmovin reblogged this from catherinewillis
  12. brokenbonfire reblogged this from theantidote
  13. susiehouser reblogged this from catherinewillis
  14. banderl777 reblogged this from theantidote