No! But I must.

I dont want to tell it! But I swore to tell it all. No, I renounce, not that, surely some things are better left…? That wont wash; what cant be cured, must be endured! But surely not the whispering walls, and treason, and snip snip, and the women with the bruised chests? Especially those things. But how can I, look at me, Im tearing myself apart, cant even agree with myself, talking arguing like a wild fellow, cracking up, memory going, yes, memory plunging into chasms and being swallowed by the dark, only fragments remain, none of it makes sense any more! But I mustnt presume to judge; must simply continue (having once begun) until the end; sense and nonsense is no longer (perhaps never was) for me to evaluate. But the horror of it, I cant wont mustnt wont cant no! Stop this; begin. No! Yes.

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