In response to Ready, Set, Done | Daily Post
It’s 13:29. They told me I would be dead by 13:39.
13:30: In the blink of an eye. Nine minutes left – I better think of something profound to write. You know, leave some kind of legacy. But my head’s so groggy. I was drinking last night; drinking wine with my wife – my best friend. I wish she was here.
13:31: Someone’s just come into the room, wait a moment. A man who looks not unlike Alan Partridge, and another, a young student type. The student is coming over. “Do you know where to get to the immigration office?” “No, I don’t know.” He leaves.
13:33: They could be my last spoken words. “I don’t know”. Great! What a remark. Perhaps that’ll be my epitaph.
13:34: I can’t think of any philosophy to quote…
13:35: But why should I? Isn’t this a time for something much more frank, something real and human. I’m starting to get emotional now. Is it some kind of trick that I must spend the last – now 4 minutes – writing a text. Trapped in a text. Derrida was right…
13:36: No, I can’t quote him! Derrida was write – get it? Didn’t he say in one of his last letters that he would die knowing nothing? Oh, why does it matter? Does it matter?
13:37: This is the worst time ever to make jokes. Terrible, terrible jokes. Here’s what I’ve learnt, the key thing. Oh, hang on, the man who looks like Alan Partridge is coming over.
13:38: As I was saying, the key thing I’ve learnt is patience. Things come with time. The more time you give something the better it is. It’s just that right now, I don’t …