You see, there’s too much going on in the world for me, I can’t take it, people doing all those things at once, that’s what gets me down. I’ve tried to contract out and just be a spectator. But it’s not possible. They come and search you out. You can hide where you like, it makes no difference, there’s always friends or relatives or somebody after you. They button-hole you and discuss things with you, they’re full of ideas and just bursting with good intentions. They smile a lot, on the street, in cafés, out of photographs in the papers. All right, I’ll admit it, some of them — well, I find them quite touching, they’re so nice, they roll up just like that, they haven’t a clue. And that touches me and hurts me and I need all my will power to resist them, to avoid getting sucked in. That’s what happened with him—Paul, I mean. That’s how he managed to pull a fast one on me. That’s what I wanted to tell you, too — Because I don’t feel at all well now. I’ve got this nausea, I think — I think I’m going to throw up. It’s so idiotic that one can’t die more easily. I wish I could obliterate myself without any effort, just like that, peaceful annihilation. Maybe I’d have done better to put a bullet through my head, but I didn’t happen to own a pistol. And with these pills there’s even a chance that — that I won’t die, after all. They ought to knock me out, and at the moment I feel anything but sleepy. There’s — there’s just this awful feeling of nausea. You know, my mother tried to commit suicide once, when she was a young girl. She threw herself into the river, but someone fished her out again. She had no idea why she did it, but in any case it wasn’t because she’d been jilted. Apparently she’d had a whitlow on her thumb, and had been in a depressed state after taking antibiotics. There are people who say that when you do something like that you’re temporarily insane. But seriously, François, I do assure you I’m not mad. You can’t conceive just how much I’m conscious of what I’m about. On my word of honour, I can see the whole thing very clearly, black and white, and in the most minute detail. It’s as though, well, as though my body had had enough of living, as though it was absolutely exhausted, and had to sleep. I’m living in a desert, that’s the long and short of it. There’s nothing whatsoever to hold me back. It’s weird, François — everything being such a desert, I mean. It’s hard to imagine what it’s like. You’re in a sort of bubble, and everyone’s deaf, they can’t hear you screaming, and your voice bounces back at you like a ball, like — it’s difficult for me to say this, François, but there ought to be a God…. When anyone’s reached this point, how can you expect them to turn back? You can’t turn the desert into — I mean, it would be mere illusion, and anyway you can’t go on deceiving yourself all that long. There’s no pleasure in anything any longer. I–I was right to take these pills, because I honestly believe I’ve come to the end of the road, whichever way you look at it. That was my basic motive. Maybe I should have just let myself starve to death. I’d given up, lost my belief in anything. So had my body, that I’m sure of. So—
I don’t know if evening’s coming on, or if it’s the effect of the pills, but I feel everything’s getting dark. There’s a slight chill in my legs and hands, too. I don’t feel I want to throw up any more now. But I’m getting stomach cramps—ooh, they hurt like hell — What was I saying? Yes, well, it’s — that’s how it is, and I’m going to be able to rest now. When the pain stops. What I ought to have had, when you really get down to it, is some sort of deformity — a leg withered by polio, or a club-foot, or a hunched back, some very obvious defect, a constant source of suffering. That would have given me something to hang on to. I once knew a girl who had one leg shorter than the other. She used to walk by under our apartment every day. She had an awful limp. But there was something about her face and bearing — a sort of pride, can you understand that? I’d have liked to be the way she was. Maybe then I’d have had the same courage and will-power — I realize that now, when I’m feeling so frightful—a-ah-aah, oh God, yes, that’s what I needed. Blind! That’s what I ought to have been. Too late now. I’m passing the secret on to you. It might even have saved me. Weakness, disability. With a white stick. Seeing nothing, seeing nothing people would have moved aside to let me pass. There’d have been no need for me to say or do anything, just the struggle for survival. I’d have had, oh, big black glasses made out of plastic, and I’d have learnt to feel things out with my finger-tips. Warm colours, cold colours…. I’d have really listened, used my ears. The feel of blackness. Not seeing anything, ever again…. Blind! That’s it, tossed like a parcel into areas of movement, feeling my way. Armed with a stick. The victim’s weapon. — Too late now…. I’ve taken these pink pills…
You know, I nearly passed out then. I felt — I felt it was coming. I had to shake myself awake. Nearly dark now…. I feel fine, just fine — oh, but there was still something I wanted to tell you…. Yes, that was it…. The most important thing of all…. Look, I’m going to hold this glass in my hand so you can tell when, when it happens. I’m going to hold on to it as long as I can…. So when — when the moment comes, and I fall asleep, the glass will fall…. Fall on the floor, and you’ll hear it…. And then you’ll know it’s all over. All right?
Aa-a-aah, another cramp. God, this one’s going on and on — argggh, how it hurts…. Anyway, I’m sure this will be the best thing I’ve ever written … even if the ending isn’t all that brilliant.…
It’s some consolation for all the meretricious rubbish I’ve churned out….
Funny. If this is death, it wasn’t worth while making up all those … those philosophical systems…. You know, once before I thought I was going to die…. I was thirteen, something like that. And I–I fell down on the ground, I felt all the blood had drained out of my head, leaving it quite empty…. I was falling … falling … Oh, it was awful … People gathered round me….
It’s as if … as if the Flood had happened … you understand? … and Noah was looking at those still waters.… He didn’t realize that … [long pause] The earth was so teeming, so full of myriad life … and the sky … And the light is so diaphanous, especially — especially towards evening … I can still see it, through the window.… Translucent.… One day I believe it’ll be possible to … lose oneself in it.… out there … How lovely it’d be … I think I’ve thrown up.… I felt something.… I can’t be … a very pretty sight.… Aa-aah.… There goes the glass.… Listen.…