“But what would you think of an anterior state of suicide, a suicide that would make us retrace our steps on the yonder side of existence rather than the side of death. For that would be the only suicide that might make sense to me. I feel no hunger for death; I simply hunger not to be, never to have dropped into this sink of imbecilities, abdications, renunciations, and obtuse contacts which make up the conscious self of Antonin Artaud and even weaker than he is. The conscious self of this wandering invalid, who from time to time keeps trying to exhibit his shadow, which he himself spat on long ago; this self on crutches, limping along; this virtual, impossible self which nevertheless is part of reality. None like him ever felt this weakness, yet his weakness is the most important weakness of all mankind. To be destroyed, not to exist.” -Antonin Artaud