Psicoanàlisi d'un peix

Pensava absurdament amb tots els meus problemes. Fins i tot, com si no em bastàs amb les meves curolles, deixava que tot m'afectàs de forma escepcional. M'afectava... El meu estat psicològic estava molt enfora de ser agradable. I encara ara pens que mai havia estat tan absolutament psicològicament en concordança amb l'estat que reclama la societat. Desitjava amb totes les meves forces poder fer com si simplement jo mai hagués estat així. Oblidar-me a mi mateix i tornar a començar. Al mateix temps me feia por. No podia consentir abandonar res. No podia fer res. Estava fermat sense cap cadena que m'oprimís realment, i tot i així els sentia. Com si un puny que m'agafàs just al mig del ventre, allà: sota les costelles, no em volgués amollar. Un puny que m'estrenyia aquell punt i no hem deixava respirar. Enyorava alguna cosa que ara entenia que havia estimat. Era com si no recordàs què era el que enyorava, com si ja fés tant de temps d'allò que ja ni ho podia recordar. El record estava amagat sota capes i més capes i més capes... de pintura? molt avall. Ho podia sentir, però no ho (re?)coneixia. No volia creure que realment m'havia oblidat d'alguna cosa. Preferia pensar que estic boig! malalt! per tancar en un aquàri i ser observat en el meu medi. Darrera un vidre.

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