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"Nothing can extinguish my anger.
And nothing can restore my faith.

This is not a world in which I wish to live.

-----Have you made any plans?

Take an overdose, slash my wrists, then hang myself.

-----All those things together?

It couldn't possibly be misconstrued as a cry for help.

... I've never in my life had a problem giving another person what they want. But no one's ever been able to do that for me. No one touches me, no one gets near me. But now you've touched me somewhere so fucking deep I can't believe and I can't be that for you. Because I can't find you.

My love, my love, why have you forsaken me?

She is the couching place where I shall never lie
and there's no meaning to life in light of my loss

Built to be lonely
To love the absent
Find me
Free me
from this corrosive doubt /// futile despair

Horror in repose

I can fill my space
fill my time
but nothing can fill this void in my heart

I'm seeing things
I'm hearing things
I don't know who I am

The vital need for which I would die

... A dotted line on the throat

... Sanity is found at the centre of convulsion, where madness is scorched from the bisected soul.
I know myself.
I see myself.
My life is caught in a web of reason spun by a doctor to augment the sane.

At 4:48
I shall sleep.

At 4:48
when sanity visits
for one hour and twelve minutes I am in my right mind.
When it has passed I shall be gone again,
a fragmented puppet, a grotesque fool.
Now I am here I can see myself
but when I am charmed by vile delusions of happiness,
the foul magic of this engine of sorcery,
I cannot touch my essential self.

Why do you believe me then and not now?

... in death you hold me
never free
I have no desire for death
No suicide ever had
watch me vanish

... It is myself I have never met, whose face is pasted on the underside of my mind

open the curtains"


For a period of her depression, she had found herself awoken, every morning, at 4:48 AM. This moment, in the darkest hour, just before dawn, she found a moment of great clarity, a moment when the confusions of psychosis seem to evaporate. The paradox is that, to all those outside that mind, it is the moment when delusion is at its greatest.


She was found hanged in her hospital room seventeen days after her twenty-eighth birthday. That was the same year Leah's father raped Anna.

Who was found in her room seventeen days before her nineteenth.

After a rather spectacular rise in the major theatre ranks in the UK, Sarah Kane fell victim to SI and acute + chronic depression. All pdocs failed. Eight psychotropic drugs failed. Weight down 17Kg, up 12Kg, down 14Kg. SI succeeded, for a while.

From the three years she was 24: four highly experimental plays produced and one TV film. She directed one of the plays. Writer-in-residence fellowship. While fighting all this, IP and OP and IP again.

I was going to quote things from Ki's writing also --- but there is absolutely no need at all. The only change would be what the clock says. Anna and Sarah never knew one another and it's very unlikely A had ever run across S's final play, "4:48 Psychosis", which survived her and had a successful production in the UK in 2000, and a more controversial one here in the US, Brooklyn, some years later. Given my career in theatre, it's likely Anna and I would have discussed Sarah either online or F2F....but we didn't.

But that does not matter either. Anna could have written many of Sara's lines out of her own life experience --- and the other way around is also true. One attempt Sara made was with pills as well, she wrote it into her script. And, Anna did write all that. Right there in her LJ.

Two senoritas to be remembered on Los Dies Del Todos Santos weekend also. One of Sarah's plays is running right now in NY, totally sold out [it's not this one.] Therefore Sara is alive right now, on stage, not very far from where I'm writing this. Anna's photo art is [still] open for all to look at, as is some of her fiction. That distance is a click or two of your buttons.

One had made it as a scriptwriter, the other was on her way as a multiple-field artist.

Both are with those who love them. This night and all nights.



excerpted from "4:48 Psychosis" (c) 2000 Sarah Kane, (c) 2006 by The Estate of Sarah Kane
excerpted from Introduction to "Sarah Kane - Complete Plays", (c) 2001 by David Greig

All Rights Reserved.


open the curtains.


( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
Nov. 2nd, 2008 11:45 pm (UTC)
This was for sure written from the heart. A cry from the heart. A cry from more than one heart. As you have said here.

I hear it, this cry.

Sarah and Anna are both gone. But this is what I would have said to them: No One Is Alone, Stephen Sondheim. It is a song dear to my heart I have found comforting in such dark places, and I would wish such comfort on them and anyone else needing it.

I hope they have both found eternal comfort. I know Anna has.

Nov. 3rd, 2008 02:20 am (UTC)
Wow. I thought those may have been Anna's words until it was explained they belonged to Sara.

I miss her so much.
Nov. 4th, 2008 12:28 am (UTC)
As we all do.
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(Deleted comment)
Nov. 14th, 2008 08:49 pm (UTC)
I don't identify you as anyone in any detail, actually there is no need now since you're doing it.

LJ cuts are easily detoured around, and making any kind of response to what I write --- whether to do it, what to say --- is the choice of the responder. Not choices made by me.

Of course that's why LJ has a PM service too. Flist friends have written to me that way in the past and I'm sure will in the future. You can too. In fact, you have before :)

I grieve about the -ex- part because I know it is a shared grief. You are perhaps the last person I would ever want to attack.

I do not write to be "cool". I write to be me.

LJ has the ultimate remedy, beyond this: it's called deFriending.

You know that a lot better than I do since you have been on LJ a lot longer than I have. Than almost anyone else has too, indeed.

So, despite all that: I'm sorry you are pained and angered, I really am.

It was not intended but I don't control those feelings, you do.
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(Deleted comment)
Nov. 14th, 2008 10:23 pm (UTC)
Got it. Thanks, Bandit. *hugs*
( 5 comments — Leave a comment )


kiota too late for the stars
Moonfire Marion Bridge / Brad

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