ba-dev-neutral-roach
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— The Passion According to G.H. - Clarice Lispector, Benjamin Moser, and Idra Novey
The roach was touching all of me with its black, faceted, shiny and neutral gaze.
And now I was starting to let it touch me.
==In truth I had fought all my life against the profound desire to let myself be touched — and I had fought because I couldn’t allow myself the death of what I called my goodness; the death of human goodness.
But now I no longer wanted to fight it.
There had to be a goodness so other that it wouldn’t resemble goodness.== I no longer wanted to fight.
==With disgust, with despair, with courage, I was giving in.
It was too late, and now I wanted.== Was it only in that instant that I was wanting?
No, or else I would have left the room long before, or simply would barely have seen the roach — how often before had roaches happened to me and I had gone another way?
I was giving in, but with fear and shattering.
I thought that if the telephone rang, I would have to answer and would still be saved!
But, as if remembering an extinct world, I remembered that I’d taken the phone off the hook.
If not for that, it would ring, I would flee the room to answer it, and never again, oh!
never again would return.