I construct my memories with my present. I am lost, abandoned in the present. I try in vain to rejoin the past: I cannot escape. - Jean-Paul Sartre

Alors c'est ça l'enfer. Je ne l'aurais jamais cru… Vous vous rappelez : le souffre, le bûcher, le gril.. Ah quelle plaisanterie. Pas besoin de gril, l'enfer c'est les autres.

Canturrea para no pensar, padece como una avara, a veces desea sufrir un buen golpe, hundirse en la desesperación

She suffers as a miser. She must be miserly with her pleasures, as well. I wonder if sometimes she doesn't wish she were free of this monotonous sorrow, of these mutterings which start as soon as she stops singing, if she doesn't wish to suffer once and for all, to drown herself in despair. In any case, it would be impossible for her: she is bound.