De mes propres mains

With his head in one hand and a revolver in the other, he tries to understand what drove him to be what he has become: a man still very hungry, but nevertheless driven from the sumptuous banquet of life.%%%For one does not kill oneself full, but by excess of appetite.%%%But always a word, a look, a memory, a fact, a gesture from the distant past or the near past, demands that we delve further, that we search again and again, not for the origin of evil, though it may be, but for the inhuman chain of these "few things", "they are but few things," he says, "but my heart is tight", morbid bells ringing in the ears of men, repeating in cadence to those who want to hear him: kill yourself.%%%It's necessary to go further, because at every moment of the quest, salvation can also emerge from the depths. Or not. (...)