'For what do we do with the knowledge that we've fucked up, that we no longer make sense to ourselves? Turn to face each other, for a start. A community of acknowledged fuck-ups ought at least in theory to be kinder to one another......
So one thing we do instead, when we've fucked up, when we no longer make sense to ourselves, is to turn towards the space where the possibility exists that there might be someone to hear us who is not one of the parties to our endless, million sided, multi-generational suit against each other. To turn towards a space in which there is quite possibly no-one - in which, we think as we find ourselves doing it, that there probably is no one.
And we say;: Hello? Hello? I don't think I can stand this anymore. I don't think I can bear it. Not another night like last night. Not another morning like this morning. Hello? A little help in here, please?'
Taken from Unapologetic, by Francis Spufford,
Published Faber & Faber 2012
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