NU alerga textul, citestel incet si cu calm..

asta trebuie sa fie starea general ape care sa o am

It would be best for her if she could just stop…stop feeling and thinking and rationalizing all together…

but she couldn’t… thoughts are the dullest things. ( pana aici o voce mai calda, si usor rezemnata cu un
usor iz de frustrare) pauza scurta

no matter how hard she tries they are neverending, carrying her from this plane of existece to the next
and the next, oppening up before her a myriad paths that she dares not venture on, for fear of the
unknown… for fear of what might happen next when she has to entertain these thoughts. (Pauza)

Then there are words inside the thoughts…unfinished words… sketchy phrases that constantly
return.again and again! ( inca putina frustrare) (pauza intru cu o voce mai calda si resemnata). But she
never paied too much attention to them…she doesn’t want to give up and give in to those words
completely… not even for a moment.

( Resemnat si trist) There is no end to what they might say to her and there is no end to what she would
never want to hear… thoughts and words overbearing…( voce calda, si trista ) But at the same.. time
she realizees it’s all because of her …– the words, the thoughts.!!!- “I exist, I am the one who keeps
it up. I. “ ( cu un ton mai ridicat)

(Revi la o voce calda)The body lives by itself once it has begun…but she though she is the one who
continues it, unrolls it.( pauza)

She exists( ferm)….How serpentine is this feeling of existing, she unwind it, slowly. ... If she could
just keep herself from thinking! ( cobori tonul, trepat pana aici si de aici de la SHE TRIES intri cu o
voce mai calda)..She tries, and succeeds:.. her head seems to fill with smoke . . . and then it starts
again: (Haos! Vorbesti repede, agitat! O citezi pe ea and she is not ok) "Smoke . . . not to think . . .
don't want to think ... I think I don't want to think. I mustn't think that I don't want to think. Because
that's still a thought." Will there never be an end to it?”

Her thoughts are what she is: that's why she can't stop. She exists because she thinks . . . and she
can't stop herself from thinking. ( resemnat cu o voce joasa)

At this very moment, she’s frightful, if she exists, it is because she is horrified of existing.pauza
scurta) She is the one who pulls herself from the nothingness to which she aspire: the hatred, the
disgust of existing..( cu usor dezgust),

( Thoughts are born at the back of her mind,( o voce calda,joasa ).. like sudden panic, she feels
them being born behind her head ... if she yiels, they're going to come round in front of her, between
her eyes, and she always yiels,(pauza) the thought grows and grows and there it is immense, filling
her completely and shaking her to her very core.

She exists, that is all, and she finds it nauseating. ” What day was it again? “She keep asking
herself…for her there is neither Monday nor Sunday…: there are days which pass in disorder, and
then, sudden lightning like this one.

Nothing has changed …and yet everything is different.( pauza) She can't describe it,but she must
finally realize that she is the subject to these sudden transformations.
The thing is that she rarely thinks…,as in truly think ( un ton mai ferm).. truly give in to those
thoughts; …. ( cobori tonul, resemnat) a crowd of small changes keep accumulating in her without
her noticing it, and then, one fine day, a veritable revolution takes place.

And then there is no stoping them, the thoughts cascading over her swallowing her whole.

“Nothing happens while you live!. “ ( frustrare) she thinks ( cobori tonul)The scenery changes,
people come in and go out, that's all…. There are no beginnings. Days are tacked on to days without
rhyme or reason, an interminable, monotonous addition.

She started contemplating suicide.( un ton trist, depresiv) What held her back was the idea that no
one!, absolutely no one!! ( frustrare nervi), would be moved by her death, that she would be even
more alone in death than in life.

“No, stop thinking about that. Anything but that.!!!” ( ton ridicat si agitat) She kept saying to herself,
She felt the calm wash over her as the thoughts seem to subside .“Anything, anything would be
better than this agony of mind!” she thinks ( un ton calm, citesti tot ce e de la she kept…)

The past did not exist. Not at all. Not in things, not even in her thoughts.

Until she realized that… she believed that it had simply gone out of her range.

For her the past was only a pensioning of, it was another way of existing, a state of vacation and
inaction; each event, when it had played its part, put itself politely into a box and became an
honorary event: ( o voce calam si rssemnata)

we have so much difficulty imagining nothingness.

Now she knows: things are entirely what they appear to be-and behind them... there is nothing. (
calm, melancolic)

A pale reflection of herself wavers in her conscious...and suddenly the “I” pales, pales, and fades
out. Only to be replaced by something else. ( calm)

The Nausea has not left her and she doesn’t believe it will leave her verry soon; but she no longer
have to bear it, it is no longer an illness or a passing fit:” it is her... she finally realized. ( concluzie, pe
un ton calm si resemnat)