Bernardí Roig /// Beneath the Quaking of the Monologue

Beset by a somnolence that is enormous and is nothing other than that which we may call determining and that I would even dare to call definitive, I have decided never to come out of my head again. I will always be inside my head, not because it is cold outside or because the light hurts me, but because I painfully admit that I have been beaten and that there is no longer any place for me in the world. There was a time when I wanted to be hanging on a wall, other times I was also bold enough to sit on a chair and even in times of greater courage I wanted to be on a pedestal; that was one of the most ambitious and glorious moments in my whole life. But today I can only be inside my head, because fortunately I have no ideas anymore, only memory. I will devote myself completely to this absolute: to live inside my head, and to introduce my whole body inside that head. That is, it is a matter of shutting down that supposition once and for all, and from that going on to dare to think the world again. Being inside my head will be the guarantee of stillness and silence.