‘I’d lie in bed thinking of ways to die. So this is what it comes to, I thought, I must be ill. Almost a relief, I thought, to be ill, indisputably ill. Ill. I repeated the word as I imagined ways to die. This is what it comes to, I thought, something in me is ill and it’s taken me over and when that happens this is what happens, this is what it comes to. It’s indisputable, just look. Ill in a dark room. Almost a relief, to have only one thought, one sincere wish. Ill, I must be ill. Almost easier, I thought, now that you’re cornered. Easier to be taken out of yourself, out of all fakery for once, to be ill, indisputably ill. It’s an illness, you see, I’m ill. There’s the death drive and there’s the life force and the life force is weak, the life force is dying, it’s turned into the death drive because I’m ill and now I know I wasn’t lying because all I want is to die and that’s because I’m ill, do you see, I’m ill and I’ve always been more or less ill, this is what it comes down to, it’s fitting and logical. Ill. It’s grown inside me, fed on me and now it’s come to this, now it’s ready, death has ripened in me. It’s invisible, it grows in the dark, in obscurity, but now you can see the fruit of its work, you thought I was lying, now you must see I wasn’t. It grows in the dark until it comes to this and look at me now, full of the will to death, full of the opposite of will, this is what it looks like, now do you see it? It’s an illness, there’s a name for it. Almost a relief that it’s here, that it’s taken me, indisputably, that they were wrong and I was right. See for yourself. Ill. Can you see it? Almost, you can almost see it. It’s indisputable, just look at me, lying in bed thinking of ways to die.’


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