"I want to attempt a terrible feminine. The cry of the revolt that is trampled underfoot, of anguish armed for war, of the demand for justice.

It is like the groan of an abyss that is opened: the wounded earth calls out but voices are raised deep as the bottom of the abyss, voices where are the bottom of the abyss crying.

Neuter. Feminine. Masculine.

In order to utter this cry I empty myself. 
Not of air, but of the very power of sound. I raise up in front of myself my human body. And having cast on it "THE EYE" of a horrible measurement, part by part, I force it to re-enter me." 

 - Antonin Artaud