Persona, Bergman, 1966 - The impossible dream, not of seeming, but of being

...You think I don’t understand? The impossible dream. Not of seeming, but of being. Conscious every moment. Vigilant. At the same time, the abyss between what you are for others and for yourself, the feeling of vertigo and the constant desire at least, of being exposed, of being analyzed, dissected, maybe even annihilated. Suicide? Oh, no! That is horrible. You would not do such a thing. But you can stay immobile and in silence. At least that way you don’t lie. You can close within yourself. Alienate yourself? This way you will not have to act roles, and not put on false gestures. You think. But, do you see? Reality is in the way, your hiding place is not impenetrable. Life sweeps in through everywhere. And you are obliged to react. No one asks if it is real or unreal, if you are true or false.

bergman, persona