Dead Voices

January 16, 2020

All the dead voices.
They make a noise like wings.
Like leaves.
Like sand.
Like leaves.

Samuel Beckett
Waiting for Godot

those cries for help…

January 27, 2016

foggynight

Let us do something, while we have the chance! It is not every day that we are needed. Not indeed that we personally are needed. Others would meet the case equally well, if not better. To all mankind they were addressed, those cries for help still ringing in our ears! But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late! Let us represent worthily for one the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us! What do you say? It is true that when with folded arms we weigh the pros and cons we are no less a credit to our species. The tiger bounds to the help of his congeners without the least reflexion, or else he slinks away into the depths of the thickets. But that is not the question. What are we doing here, that is the question. And we are blessed in this, that we happen to know the answer. Yes, in the immense confusion one thing alone is clear. We are waiting for Godot to come — ”

Samuel Beckett
Waiting for Godot

I hate Monday

January 25, 2016

Monday_martyrs-2

Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It’s awful.”

Samuel Beckett
Waiting for Godot

mondaymadnesspulpart

There are no miracles on Mondays. 

Amy Neftzger

 The Orphanage of Miracle

Maskhead

When I get home I take some sleeping pills and within what seemed like half an hour of unconsciousness it was Monday morning again.” 

 Irvine Welsh

 Filth