A sense of absolute failure, and that it could not have been otherwise. A sense of total incapacity, of complete inability: it's with that W. has always been left. His incapacity: that's what remains to him after lights out. He lies in the dark with it, it dreams beside him: what is more intimate with his own inability than W.?
No one knows it better. And he will know nothing else; he will be pushed to think of nothing else. The capacity to think only leads him to the thought of his incapacity; he begins only to end straightaway. Why do his powers desert him? Why do they seem always to have left him in advance?
But he drew a face on his incapacity. He called him Lars and brought him to life. And there he is, his idiot, sitting beside him with a stupid grin on his face. There he is slurping his tea, the living embodiment of W.'s failure.
Lars Iyer's Blog 