maybe it's because this is my 4th/5th Beckett, but I finally felt like I could really keep pace with him, and thus had a really great time reading this collection. so many "wow," *gasp*, hand-to-mouth moments. especially texts for nothing 5-9 (& 13 like that's crazy). "I would know it was not me, I would know I was here, begging in another dark, another silence, for another alm, that of being or of ceasing, better still, before having been." what a crazy thing to say. to be able to say. we really are trapped inside a glass jar... separating us from the world... separating us from our bodies... keeping our souls, our *real* selves, imprisoned somewhere... in a dark, timeless, nowhere. unnamable, unthinkable, unknowable - to the point that most of us will spend our whole lives completely unaware that are "words" (our thoughts, actions, behaviors, visions, dreams, etc.) are failing us, let alone what they're trying to express...that there's something—or someone—else there. but Beckett was lucky in that he had this sensitive sixth sense, although it makes his writing seem like the ramblings of a madman.