The Twins

November 11th, 2005

There's a patient in room number 9 affected by a paranoid delirium. He's convinced of his persecution, he seems dangerous and incurable

Darkness and nothing else in his eyes

And once again he awakes in this closed unknown chamber

Explaining parts of childhood coming to him

His remembers are woolly, no birth-date

Past forgotten

Vicious, dangerous, incurable

As all the other times he's searching for his brother

Supposing that he owes him this new solitary confinement

Fixed glance, he pricks up the ear

Assuring us he knows who's behind the door

Negation of our existence

He begins to speak alone

Who are you? Are you the other me?

How could I know who I am? I'm just a half of myself

Again I feel this pain

Do you hear my voice behind this fucking door?

I hear you my brother

Why have they put us in a strange place?

Why don't I remember?

I have to tell you something, we've done something evil

We have murdered our father

We've done it together

Dissociation of mind always torn between fraternal love and hate

He refuses to pay the price for his fault

Fit of anger he violently breaks the door

And as he realizes what stand behind

Not his brother but absolutely nothing

Do you hear my voice behind this fucking door?

I hear you my brother

I have to tell you something, we've done something evil

We have murdered our father

We've done it together