Les gens qui disent "En lisant X. j'ai compris pourquoi je fais du théâtre" m'ont toujours fait sourire. Ils prennent souvent de grands airs pénétrés et se sentent impregnés de ce petit quelque chose divin.

Et en découvrant Sarah KANE, moi aussi, j'ai prononcé cette phrase, et j'ai même pas honte.

4.48 Psychosis


"I had a night in which everything was revealed to me.

  How can I speak again?"

"I am sad

I feel that the future is hopeless and that things cannot improve

I am bored and dissatisfied with everything

I am a complete failure as a person

I am guilty, I am being punished

I would like to kill myself

I used to be able to cry but now I am beyond tears

I have lost interest in other people

I can't make decisions

I can't eat

I can't sleep

I can't think

I cannot overcome my loneliness, my fear, my disgust

I am fat

I cannot write

I cannot love

My brother is dying, my lover is dying, I am killing them both

I am charging towards my death

I am terrified of medication

I cannot make love

I cannot fuck

I cannot be alone

I cannot be with others

My hips are too big

I dislike my genitals

At 4.48

when depression visits

I shall hang myself

Into the sound of my lover's breathing

I do not want to die

I have become so depressed by the fact of my mortality that I have decided to commit suicide

I do not want to live

I am jealous of my sleeping lover and cover his induced unconsciousness

When he wakes he will envy my sleepless night of thought and speech unslurred by medication

I have resigned myself to death this year

Some will call this self-indulgence

(they are lucky not to know its truth)

Some will know the simple fact of pain

This is becoming my normality"


"Burning in a hot tunnel of dismay, my humiliation complete as I shake without reason and stumble over words and have nothing to say about my 'illness' which anyway amounts only to knowing that there's no point in anything because I'm going to die. And I am deadlocked by that smooth psychiatric voice of reason which tells me there is an objective reality in which my body and mind are one. But I am not here and never have been [...]

Inscrutable doctors, sensible doctors, way-out doctors, doctors you'd think were fucking patients if you weren't shown proof otherwise, ask the same questions, put words in my mouth, offer chemical cures for congenital anguish and cover each other's arses until I want to scream for you, the only doctor who ever touched me voluntarily, who looked me in the eye, who laughed at my gallows humour spoken in the voice from the newly-dug grave, who took the piss when I shaved my head, who lied and said it was nice to see me. Who lied. And said it was nice to see me. I trusted you, I loved you, and it's not losing you that hurts me, but your bare-faced fucking falsehoods that masquerade as medical notes. "

"I need to become who I already am and will bellow forever at this incongruity which has committed me to hell"

"They will love me for that which destroys me

                the sword in my dreams

            the dust of my thoughts

            the sickness that breeds in the folds of my mind"

"I have reached the end of his dreary and repugnant tale of a sense interned in an alien carcass and lumpen by the malignant spirit of the moral majority"

"Sometimes I turn around and catch the smell of you and I cannot go on I cannot fucking go on without expressing this terrible so fucking awful physical aching fucking longing I have for you. And I cannot believe that I can feel this for you and you feel nothing. Do you feel nothing?


And I go out at six in the morning and start my search for you. If I've dreamt a message of a street or a pub or a station I go there. And I wait for you.


You know, I really feel like I'm being manipulated.


I've never in my life had a problem giving another person what they want. But no one's ever been able to do that for me. No one touches me, no one gets near me. But now you've touched me somewhere so fucking deep I can't believe and I can't be that for you. Because I can't find you.


What does she look like?

And how will I know her when I see her?

She'll die, she'll die, she'll only fucking die.


Do you think it's possible for a person to be born in the wrong body?


Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you for rejecting me by never being there, fuck you for making me feel shit about myself, fuck you for bleeding the fucking love and life out of me, fuck my father for fucking up my life for good and fuck my mother for not leaving him, but most of all, fuck you God for making me love a person who does not exist,


"My love, my love, why have you forsaken me?"


"How do I stop?                                 A tab of pain

How do I stop?                                  Stabbing my lungs

How do I stop?                                  A tab of death

How do I stop?                            Squeezing my heart"

"I thought I should never speak again but now I know there is something blacker than desire"

"Fattened up

  Shored up

    Shoved up

my body decompensates

my body flies apart

no way to reach out

beyond the reaching out I've already done

you will always have a piece of me

because you held my life in your hands

those brutal hands

this will end me

I thought it was silent

till it went silent

how have you inspired this pain?

I've never understood

what it is I'm not supposed to feel

like a bird on the wing in a swollen sky

my mind is torn by lightning

as it flies form the thunder behind

Hatch opens

Stark light

and Nothing

see Nothing

What am I like?

                               the child of negation

out of one torture chamber into another

a vile succession of errors without remission

every step of the way I've fallen

Despair propels me to suicide

Anguish for which doctors can find no cure

Nor care to understand

I hope you never understand

Because I like you

I like you

I like you

still black water

as deep as forever

as cold as the sky

as still as my heart when your voice is gone

I shall freeze in hell

of course I love you

you saved my life

I wish you hadn't

I wish you hadn't

I wish you'd left me alone"

                                                               " I think that you think of me

                                          the way I'd have you think of me"


"in death you hold me

                             never free

I have no desire for death

no suicide ever had

watch me vanish

watch me


watch me

watch me


It is myself I have never met, whose face is pasted on the underside of my mind."