Check the Beckett

Was I sleeping while the others suffered? Am I sleeping now? Tomorrow, when I wake...at least I think I do...what shall I say of today? That with Estragon, my friend, at this place until the fall of night, I waited for Godot? That Potso passed with his carrier and that he spoke to us? Probably. But in all that, what truth will there be? He'll know nothing. He'll tell me about the blows he received and I'll give him a carrot. Astride of a grave and a difficult birth..down in the hole, lingeringly, the gravedigger puts on the forceps. We have time to grow old. The air is full of cries.

Samuel Beckett- Waiting For Godot