CHAPTER 4

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THE RAT

• Monday, January 30 •

I would like to understand my brain.

I would like to understand how it works.

I am so afraid of silence ... This silence which is so familiar to me, so reassuring when words run out.

And yet you know what? We are all living walls colliding with each other, banging against each other with all our solitude.

But I have this compulsive need for analysis.

Analyze, dissect, decipher. Emotions, mechanisms.

The brain is a great machine. It fascinates me.

My obsession with transcribing the inexpressible. You see?

It's madness and no matter how many words, how many lines I could yell, it's already lost in advance. Because no one can save me from myself.

Writing is incapable of healing me. And this incapacity consumes me.

I have trouble with my sensitivity, I have trouble with my...