XIV
Kaspar walks toward the one chair that is still upright. He stops in front of it. He remains standing in front of it for the duration of the sentence. Suddenly he sits down. After looking for a moment: I want to be a person like. He has obviously been interrupted in mid-sentence. You can hear yourself. You become aware. You become aware of yourself with the sentence. You become aware of yourself. You come upon something which interrupts the sentence which makes you aware that you have come upon something. You become aware: you can become aware: you are aware.
XV
Kaspar sits there. He is quiet. You learn to hesitate with the sentence and with the sentence you learn that you are hesitating, and you learn to hear with the sentence and you learn with the sentence that you are hearing, and with the sentence you learn to divide time into time before and time after uttering the sentence, and you learn with the sentence that you are dividing time, just as you learn with the sentence that you were elsewhere the last time you uttered the sentence, just as you learn with the sentence that you are elsewhere now, and learn to speak with the sentence and learn with the sentence that you are speaking; and you learn with the sentence that you are speaking a sentence, and you learn with the sentence to speak another sentence, just as you learn that there are other sentences, just as you learn other sentences, and learn to learn; and you learn with the sentence that there is an order and you learn with the sentence to learn order.
XVI
The stage is blacked out. You can still crawl off behind the sentence: hide: contest it. The sentence can still mean anything.
XVII
The stage becomes bright. Kaspar sits there quietly. Nothing indicates that he is listening. He is being taught to speak. He would like to keep his sentence. His sentence is slowly but surely exorcised through the speaking of other sentences. He becomes confused. The sentence doesn’t hurt you yet, not one word. Does hurt you. Every word does. Hurt, but you don’t know that that which hurts you is a sentence that. Sentence hurts you because you don’t know that it is a sentence. Speaking hurts you but the speaking does not. Hurt nothing hurts you because you don’t know yet what. Hurting is everything hurts you but nothing. Really hurts you the sentence does. Not hurt you yet because you don’t know yet that it is. A sentence although you don’t know that it is a sentence, it hurts you, because you don’t know that it is a sentence that hurts. You. I want to be a person like somebody else was once. Kaspar defends himself with his sentence:
I want.
I want to be like once.
I want to be a person like once.
Somebody else.
Like a person else.
Somebody. You begin, with yourself, you, are a, sentence you, could form, of yourself, innumerable, sentences, you sit, there but, you don’t, know that, you sit there. You don’t sit, there because you, don’t know that, you sit there you, can form, a sentence, of yourself, you sit in, your coat, is buttoned, the belt, on your, pants is, too loose, you have, no shoelace you, have no, belt your coat, is unbuttoned, you are not even, there you, are an un, loosed shoe, lace. You cannot defend yourself against any sentence: He still maintains his sentence:
I want to be a person like somebody else was once. He defends himself again:
Was I.
Somebody else like else.
Somebody else a person.
Be like I.
I be I.
Somebody was.
Be one.
I a person.
I want somebody else.
Like somebody else somebody.
Once like somebody.
Was somebody.
Like once.
I want to be somebody like. The shoelace hurts you. It does not hurt you because it is a shoelace but because you lack the word for it, and the difference between the tight and the loose shoelace hurts you because you don’t know the difference between the tight and the loose shoelace. The coat hurts you, and the hair hurts you. You, although you don’t hurt yourself, hurt yourself. You hurt yourself because you don’t know what is you. The table hurts you, and the curtain hurts you. The words that you hear and the words that you speak hurt you. Nothing hurts you because you don’t know what hurting is, and everything hurts, you don’t know what anything means. Because you don’t know the name of anything, everything hurts you even if you don’t know that it hurts you because you don’t know what the word hurt means: The first divergence:
I want to be like somebody else like somebody else once was somebody else. You hear sentences: something like your sentence: something comparable. You can play off your sentence against other sentences and already accomplish something: such as becoming used to the open shoelace. You are becoming used to other sentences, so that you cannot do without them any more. You can no longer imagine your sentence all alone by its self: it is no longer your sentence alone: you are already looking for other sentences. Something has become impossible: something else has become possible: He resists more vehemently but with less success:
One.
Be.
Somebody.
Was.
Want.
Somebody else. Somebody else like I like once I want to be. He resists even more vehemently, but even less successfully:
Waswant!
Somelike!
Someonce!
Some I!
Besome!
Likeonce!
Elsh! Where are you sitting? You are sitting quietly. What are you speaking? You are speaking slowly. What are you breathing? You are breathing regularly. Where are you speaking? You are speaking quickly. What are you breathing? You are breathing in and out. When are you sitting? You are sitting more quietly. Where are you breathing? You are breathing more rapidly. When are you speaking? You are speaking louder. What are you sitting? You are breathing. What are you breathing? You are speaking. What are you speaking? You are sitting. Where are you sitting? You are speaking in and out: Olce ime kwas askwike lein. The prompters address Kaspar very vehemently: Kaspar utters a very long e. Order. Put. Lie. Sit. Kaspar utters an n for not quite as long a duration as the e. Put. Order. Lie. Sit.
Lie. Put. Order. Sit. Kaspar utters a shorter s. Sit. Lie. Put. Order. Kaspar utters a brief, formally difficult, r. Order. Put. Lie. Sit. Kaspar utters a p, and tries to stretch the p like the other letters, an endeavor in which he of course fails utterly. Put. Order. Sit. Lie.
Sit. Lie. Order. Stand. With great formal difficulties, Kaspar utters a t. Stand. Sit. Lie. Order. With great effort, Kaspar utters a d. Lies. Stands. Sits. Completely ordered: Kaspar seeks to produce some kind of sound by means of movements such as stomping his feet, scraping, shoving a chair back and forth, and finally perhaps by scratching on his clothes. The prompters are now speaking calmly, already sure of their success: