Someone

Yesterday was full of symmetric times. 11:11, 12:12, 13:31, 15:51, … I knew something is to happen. And it was watching this movie:

Cries and whispers

Agnes dies at the beginning of the drama. Yet she is not dead. She is lying in the room, in her bed; she calls out to the others, the tears streaming down her cheeks. Take me! Keep me warm!

Agnes: the dying one
Maria: The most beautiful one
Karin: The strongest one
Anna: The serving one

Agnes’ diary: It’s early Monday morning, and I’m in pain.

My sisters and Anna are taking turns to watch over me. … …. Mother is in my thoughts almost every day. Although she has been dead for almost twenty years…I loved her for being so soft, so beautiful and vibrant… For being so present… But she could also be cold and rejecting, or playfully cruel. Yet I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. And now I’m older I understand her much better. How I wish I could see her again and tell her that I understand her tedium and impatience, her longing and loneliness.


Doctor: Look at yourself in the mirror. You are beautiful…perhaps so more than in our time. But you’ve changed. I want you to see that you’ve changed. These days you cast rapid, calculating sidelong glances. Your gaze used to be direct, open, without any disguise. Your mouth has an expression of discontent and hunger. It used only to be soft. Your complexion has become pallid. You use make-up. Your fine, broad forehead now has four creases above each eyebrow. You can’t tell in this light, though you can in daylight. Do you know how they got there? Indifference, Maria. And this fine contour, from the ear to the chin… It’s no longer quite so evident. That’s where complacency and indolence reside. Look here, at the bridge of the nose… why do you sneer so often, Maria? Do you see? You sneer too often. Do you see, Maria? Beneath your eyes… those sharp, barely visible wrinkles of boredom and impatience…
Maria: Do you see all that?
Doctor: No, but I feel it when you kiss me.

Priest: If it be that you gathered our suffering in your poor body and have borne it with you through death… If it be that you meet God, there, in that other land…if it be that He turns His face towards you… if it be that you will know the language of Our Lord… if it be that you can speak to the Lord… if it be so : pray for us… pray for us who are left on this dark and dirty earth… beneath an empty and cruel sky. Lay your burden of suffering at the Lord’s feet… and ask Him to pardon us. Ask Him to set us free at last from our anxiety… our weariness and our profound doubt. Ask Him for a meaning to our lives.


Karin: It’s nothing but a tissue of lies. All of it… Nothing but a tissue of lies… A tissue of lies…

Karin: It’s true. I have… Many times… Considered taking my life… It’s disgusting… It’s degrading… It is… invariably the same. … My husband says I’m clumsy. He’s right… I’m awkward. My hands are too big, you see… They won’t obey me.

You sit there, smiling uncomfortably. It wasn’t this kind of conversation you wanted. Do you realize how I hate you? How ridiculous I find you, with your coquetry and moist smiles. How I’ve put up with you, never saying a word. I know you. You and your caresses and false promises… How can anyone live with all the hatred I have to bear?
There’s no mercy, no relief… No help, Nothing… And I see it all, nothing escapes me. Now you hear what it sounds like when Karin speaks.




Anna: Can’t you hear? Someone’s crying, can’t you hear? Someone’s crying all the time.