I would like to try and philosophize on the subject of sobbing, based on the following elements: in a fit of sobbing, my body neutralizes everything that could, or even should, give me a form of mastery over the world: breath, speech, thought. It thus doubles the powerlessness that has just struck me.

It tears apart the seductive narrative that I am the author of my biography, the midwife of my potentialities, the organizer of my progressions. This series of phenomena forces me to face up to my powerlessness. I live it. And yet, in their violence, in their work of disfigurement and disorganization, these phenomena shatter the self-evident. I protest against my powerlessness in the very act of allowing myself to be overwhelmed by it.

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