In the time it takes a thought to pass by, it was already yesterday. When this phenomenon started, I dismissed it as coincidence or déjà vu, but when the following day approached, I could see that it was the day before yesterday... the same actions replayed by the same people in the same moments as before... Right now, it's the day before yesterday... I don't understand any of it. At one time my life was peaceful, perhaps too peaceful... But all has changed. 
				

[Instumental]
				

Somebody please stop or kill me...
I cry my suffering to drown the noise sent out by XY-TÄH and D-ÄN.
The torture of my little brain is starting now to drive me insane. 
				

I have to move house soon. The previous occupants will be arriving in January and I only have three weeks left behind me. Did I say I wasn't getting younger? But the people round me were? I should have more of "me" as the days reverse, but I no longer seem in alignment with the time line I once knew. I was never born in the world through which I'm travelling backwards, I'm nothing, a scrap of flesh, haunting this dull past life. I no longer have parents: dead when I wasn't born. The only thing I have of them is a photograph yellowed and faded by who knows what time, with faces blurred into nothingness. A decision! I shall search for my new future by tracing my past! I'm getting colder and colder... But I can find no document, no trace of my life. Not a hint of myself in the archives. For me, existence stopped the day it became the day before. I shall investigate the hospitals in the north of the country. I found this vague instruction on the back of my parents'photograph. Then I can ascertain those died in childbirth on the day I came into being! But for now I need to wait... 
				

The hour of my birth approaches: the color scheme in this place makes me bilious. Today it's my birthday. The faces of my mother and my father suddenly become clear on the photograph. Now I know who to look for, I rush through the hospital corridors to find them. Then I hear a scream. A man has just jumped under the wheels of a truck outside. Then I hear "He just couldn't deal with the fact that his wife was dead. You know room 11?" 
				

I try to search through my mind,
I try to free my soul.
My soul? My mind? What am I now?
An entity?
Endless corridors made of dusty mirrors surround me, Reflecting the being
I once was, stained with blood and bathed in tears.
He holds out his hand into my direction,
I have to help him to save my soul!
I have to return to find my exit...
Wandering through the lobby I have found my way.
I open the door, as I'm hit by a blinding light.
I hope I'll be free. Will I ever be free?... 
				

I only have the opportunity to glimpse a stretcher bearing a form covered in a white cloth. At least, it should have been white... Dear god, no... It seems that the walls past which the stretcher was carried became crimson, pouring more agony into this place. "Get out of here!!" It's my father, not dead yet, my mother is already dead. A "nurse" will not let me into room 11. I demand to see the baby. The nurse leaves, and returns with two, one in the crook of each arm. "Which is it?" I cry! The nurse babbles: "She was a very courageous woman but her body simply couldn't cope with giving birth to twins..." "Twins??". 
				

I can hear myself howl when the window's runges come
(My scream becomes shrill).
Finding my spirit again,
I open my eyes.
Anthea's hand is in mine
(Our pale faces, our mouths big opening...)
I see myself through her.
Terrified, I push back their hands.
(One supervisor comes in and disturbs our affair :
« Did everything do on ? »).
Mugges by these words,
Anthea thrown onto me,
Start to gnaw my shoulder.
My blood's view in her mouth seickens me.
(Pity for her who meets quickly like a prisonner).
Pity for her in her never-ending hand-held folder.
(I can see myself through her...) 
				

I've crossed the threshold,
I'm now adapted to the light.
But there's nothing to see,
No walls, no ground, not one part of my body.
I feel attracted and aspirated.
I can see sparkling in the darkness,
It begins to draw nearer, it's going to take me.
I turn towards the door.
As it shuts the light fades away.
Duty for a boundless wall, the thing is now clear.
It's a kind of crystal cube.
I'm unable to overcome it's attraction,
The touch is imminent.
An unknown painful phenomena begins.
A flash shows me my parents.
They are keeping vigil over my dead body... 
				

The cold has become my friend, recognizing me every time we meet, despite the fact that for years I never visited! Today I feel a presence close to me, each day on, I feel it more and more... Woken one night by a strange impulse, I made up my mind to confront the cold once more, to quest for something as yet intangible! After many hours of struggle, I struggle, I suddenly espy a shadow, ensconced within the ice, partly jutting out like a tree branch, erect and unmoving. As I move closer, I see the wood take human shape. I have reached my destination. I attempted to drag out my brother's corpse, imprisoned in the world of ice. The ice clasped him fast around his pelvis, I could not free him. I do not know whether I laughed or cried. Then, so fast I hardly knew, I was asleep at his side... Forever. 
				

A feeling of liberty invades me.
My corpse itself unleashed of this suffering.
I'm not sufficiently myself,
In this intoxicating spiral taht attracts my damaged corpse,
Draining the force that stays me. I forget the attraction Of this earth's eddies which absorbs me eyes.
Like in a dream,
I'm swallowed in anguish but i'm ready to guage my own Glance with that of others.
A feeling of freedom invades me.
Fear leaves me, finally free I'm appeased.
Their stares don't weigh me down now,
The mind is a stranger to me.
I'm not myself finally... 
				

A worrying sight is offered to me,
Unceasing bounces of a child's head.
On that long white wall of the endless corridor that Paralyses me.
I only hear a noise : bangs in my head !
My eyes turn around the door,
They persist on a woman with an exhausted look.
Now dressed in white, prisoner of her hands...
I want to help her.
I can only hear a howling that reverberates.
Her grim glance makes the reflection of my anguish Neutralize me
(I cannot see those horrible pictures that are turning in My head anymore !) 
				

How will she stop this stream ?
How can she do it ?
An infant must stop D-AN's programme.
So « she » has to spare one.
The streams of scribs is stopped.
XY-TÄH stops his everlasting criminal but unconscious gesture...
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