"(...) yesterday I stopped killing myself. I'm alone with my breasts, my thights, my lips. I rip apart the instruments of my imprisionment the stool, the table, the bed. I destroy the battlefield that was my home. I tear the doors off their hinges to let the wind and the cry of the world inside. I smash the window. With my bleeding hands I tear de photopgraphs of the men who I loved and who used me on the bed, on the table, on the chair, on the floor. I set fire to my prison. I throw my clothes into the fire. I dig the clock that was my heart out of my breast. I go onto the street, dressed in blood." - Ophelia - Heiner Muller - Hamlet-Machine

yep. Someone has been made understood! :)