Will I lose my dignity?
Someone show me a way to get out of here.
What if I don't wake up tomorrow?
Cause I constantly pray I'll get out of here.
What if someone finds me out?
Please, won't somebody say I'll get out of here?
What if someone discovers a snag in this perfect web of lies I've spun?
Someone give me my shot, or I'll rot here.
What if no one cares?
Show me how and I will, I'll get out of here.
What if they already knew?
I'll start climbing uphill and get out of here.
What if I can't do this anymore?
Someone tell me I still could get out of here.
What if I die tomorrow?
Someone tell Lady Luck that I'm stuck here.
Will someone even notice?
Gee, it sure would be swell to get out of here.
What if I'm crazy?
Bid the gutter farewell and get out of here.
Will someone care?
I'd move heaven and hell to get out of...
What if I never find my purpose?
I'd do - I don't know what to get out of...
What if my life never has meaning?
But a hell of a lot to get out of...
What if I never succeed?
People tell me there's not a way out of...
Will I die alone?
But believe me, I've got to get out of...
Who the hell am I, anyway?
Here.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Pills.
Have strep throat?
Take these pills. They'll cure it.
Not enough vitamin C or iron?
Take these pills. They'll give you some.
Have an STD?
Take these pills. They'll keep it in check.
Depressed?
Take these pills. They'll cheer you up.
Don't like your personality?
Take these pills. They'll change it.
Don't like your life?
Take these pills. They'll end it.
Take these pills. They'll cure it.
Not enough vitamin C or iron?
Take these pills. They'll give you some.
Have an STD?
Take these pills. They'll keep it in check.
Depressed?
Take these pills. They'll cheer you up.
Don't like your personality?
Take these pills. They'll change it.
Don't like your life?
Take these pills. They'll end it.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Alouette.
Trapped in figurative cage, I have no escape. Morosely staring at the heavens, they beckon to me. Calling me back up to where I belong. Back to the stars. The dreams that I dream are only wishes, forcing reality into a cage of its own.
But why live life from dream to dream, and dread the day when dreaming ends?
Clipped wings make melancholy days.
"Why are you so sad?" they question. Like broken clocks. Stuck on the same hour, telling nothing but that.
"Wouldn't you?" I reply. "I don't belong."
I remember mother that day. Her crying woke me from my dreams. She told me father was sleeping in a place far, far away. That he'll be watching us from far, far away.
I never saw him again.
Pruned wings make indignant days.
Lust turns to disgust. A heart of gold into dust.
It gets old. It goes away.
At first you're excited, then you're less than delighted. By the end of each day, you want to drop dead.
I try to make the best of what I have.
Shattered hopes make hopeless days.
Her eyes were burning holes through me.
She said, "If I fall asleep and never wake up, promise me you won't try to wake me."
I can't handle waiting. Anticipating. So I pray that she wakes.
The lights have begun to burn down.
I lie down beside her, and in this gloom, we become one.
I cannot take it.
Oh darling, leave me be.
What will we make of this?
She never wakes up.
I'm shaking like a child. Sobbing.
You try to break this spell that's wrapped around me.
Every attempt misses. You never wake up.
Oh darling, leave me be.
There is a solemn silence in the air. Void of all pain. All suffering.
I tumble to the ground. Gasping for breath, my vision begins to swim. The ground beneath me seems to shift.
I awake with a start. Staring dumbstruck ahead of me, I begin to cry.
One day, I'll fly away.
But why live life from dream to dream, and dread the day when dreaming ends?
Clipped wings make melancholy days.
"Why are you so sad?" they question. Like broken clocks. Stuck on the same hour, telling nothing but that.
"Wouldn't you?" I reply. "I don't belong."
I remember mother that day. Her crying woke me from my dreams. She told me father was sleeping in a place far, far away. That he'll be watching us from far, far away.
I never saw him again.
Pruned wings make indignant days.
Lust turns to disgust. A heart of gold into dust.
It gets old. It goes away.
At first you're excited, then you're less than delighted. By the end of each day, you want to drop dead.
I try to make the best of what I have.
Shattered hopes make hopeless days.
Her eyes were burning holes through me.
She said, "If I fall asleep and never wake up, promise me you won't try to wake me."
I can't handle waiting. Anticipating. So I pray that she wakes.
The lights have begun to burn down.
I lie down beside her, and in this gloom, we become one.
I cannot take it.
Oh darling, leave me be.
What will we make of this?
She never wakes up.
I'm shaking like a child. Sobbing.
You try to break this spell that's wrapped around me.
Every attempt misses. You never wake up.
Oh darling, leave me be.
There is a solemn silence in the air. Void of all pain. All suffering.
I tumble to the ground. Gasping for breath, my vision begins to swim. The ground beneath me seems to shift.
I awake with a start. Staring dumbstruck ahead of me, I begin to cry.
One day, I'll fly away.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Cease Fire.
Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it.
Over.
And over.
And over.
And over.
A vicious cycle.
Over.
And over.
And over.
And over.
I sit here, counting down until the next cataclysm that I know has already happened.
Over.
And over.
And over.
And over.
A vicious cycle.
Over.
And over.
And over.
And over.
I sit here, counting down until the next cataclysm that I know has already happened.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Tink.
Characters:
Svetlana
Katya
Svetlana's Mother
Young Svetlana
Valodya
Soldier/Ferryman/Townsman
*The couple that is frequently dancing is actually the characters of KATYA and VALODYA.
(A eerily haunting "music box" waltz starts to play. A soft blue light comes up. A couple, dressed in ball outfits waltz on stage, dancing in time with the music. A small girl starts to laugh. The couple dances for a bit, and then waltzes offstage. The little girl starts to cry. Lights fade.)
(Lights up on the outside of a shabby looking bakery.)
KATYA: Out! Out! Shoo! Get out! I don't ever want to see your wretched face around here ever again! Shoo! Get out!
(A teenage girl is thrown backwards out the bakery door. A few personal belongings are thrown at her face. She starts to peruse the items to confirm she has everything.)
KATYA: That's the last time you've burned the bread in this bakery!
SVETLANA: (Horrified) My music box!
KATYA: (Closing door) Hm? What?
SVETLANA: My music box! I need it!
KATYA:(Irritated) Oh, yes. That. Stay here. I'll get it. (Exit through door)
(SVETLANA sits dejectedly on the ground, wiping away tears.)
KATYA:(Enter through door, and in considerably softer tone and expression) Here. Take it. (Holds out a small, ornate, square music box.)
SVETLANA: (Standing) Thank you, Katya. (Takes box dejectedly, and starts to collect belongings)
KATYA: (Reassuring and comforting) Listen. Sveta. It's not the end of the world. You'll find a new place to live. And a new job. I promise.
SVETLANA: But why? Why do I have to go? Do you not like me anymore?
KATYA: No, no, no, no, no. It's not that I don't like you -- and I do, but I just can't have you burning the bread and the pastries left and right!
SVETLANA: I can't help it! It's just so boring. All you do is sit around and watch bread rise! I can't stand it! And what if I can't find a job?
KATYA: (Exasperated) Sveta, trust me. I'm sure you'll be fine. When I found you wandering the streets of Moscow when you were a little girl, all you had were the clothes on your back and that little music box. You still managed. It's a pity you can't remember anything, though.
SVETLANA: May I please stay?
KATYA: No. Now go.
SVETLANA: Please?
KATYA: No! Now off with you before I chase you out myself!
(SVETLANA slowly collects her things and starts to exit stage left.)
KATYA: Good luck! Maybe we'll see each other again some day!
(SVETLANA waves goodbye to KATYA, KATYA exits through the door. SVETLANA continues on her way, hanging her head dejectedly. Exit SVETLANA stage left. Lights fade.)
(Lights up on a forest scene, enter SVETLANA stage left)
SVETLANA: Where should I go? It's not as if I have a home...
KATYA: (Offstage, as though SVETLANA is remembering it) When I found you wandering the streets of Moscow when you were a little girl, all you had were the clothes on your back and that little music box...
SVETLANA: (With dawning realization) ...Of course! Moscow! Maybe someone remembers me back there. (Exits stage right)
(Lights fade)
(Lights up, enter SVETLANA stage right)
SVETLANA: (Out of breath) Phew! I wonder how close I am to Moscow. It can't be much further. Never mind that, I need to take a break. (Sits down and leans against a tree. Slowly takes out the music box from bag, begins to sing melody under her breath.) Where did you come from? And why can't I remember anything? (Opens music box, lights down sharply)
(Music starts to play, soft blue light up, aforementioned couple waltzes into the center of the stage and continues to dance throughout the flashback. Spotlight up on stage left, where a little girl is talking to an older woman)
YOUNG SVETLANA: But Mama! Why do we have to go?
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: Hush, Sveta! It's just a vacation, don't complain! We'll be back soon.
YOUNG SVETLANA: But Mama!... (Spotlight off)
(Spotlight up on stage right, where a young girl is talking to an older woman)
YOUNG SVETLANA: But Mama! Why do we have to go?
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: Shut up! They'll hear you! We have to get out of here!
(YOUNG SVETLANA begins to cry)
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: I told you to shut up! (Slaps SVETLANA, causing SVETLANA to cry even harder. SVETLANA'S MOTHER cries out in frustration, grabs SVETLANA'S arm and starts to pull her offstage. Spotlight fades.)
(Blue light fades, couple waltzes off, music fades.)
(Lights slowly up on forest, which should look exactly how it did before SVETLANA opened the music box.)
(SVETLANA seems to be in a trance, staring at the music box. Suddenly, she wakes up, jarring the music box shut.)
SVETLANA: Wha-? I certainly don't remember that happening. Then again, I don't remember a lot of things.
(Standing) Well, I might as well get going again. (Picks up things and walks off stage left. Lights fade.)
(Lights up on city set. SVETLANA wanders onstage, looking around in wonderment. She stops and, looking dazed, leans against a wall and slides down it.)
SVETLANA: Why does this look so familiar?...(Irritated) Oh, I wish I could remember something. Anything. (SVETLANA begins to look in her bag for some food. She pulls out a piece of fruit, and stops when she pulls out the music box. She stares at for a while, then lets out a sigh of frustration.) Where am I?...
(Opens music box slowly, lights drop suddenly. Melody begins to play, blue light up, couple waltzes to centerstage. Spotlight on stage right on YOUNG SVETLANA and SVETLANA'S MOTHER.)
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: Have you got everything?
SVETLANA: Yes, mama! Where are we going?
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: It's a surprise, Sveta. If I told you, it would ruin it.
SVETLANA: Aww, c'mon! You can tell me! I'll still act surprised!
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: No, Sveta.
(Spotlight off stage right, spotlight on stage left on YOUNG SVETLANA and SVETLANA'S MOTHER.)
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: Run, Sveta! Run! Get out of -- (Gunshot. SVETLANA'S MOTHER'S eyes glaze over, and she falls to the floor. YOUNG SVETLANA continues to run, sobbing hysterically. SOLDIER runs onstage to SVETLANA'S MOTHER, checks her pulse, and continues running. Spotlight fades. Couple waltzes off, blue light fades.)
(Lights up on SVETLANA slumped against wall, unconscious. TOWNSMAN enters, sees SVETLANA, rushes over to her, and checks her pulse. SVETLANA wakes with a start, panics, grabs her things and begins to run offstage.)
TOWNSMAN: No, wait! Are you alright?
(SVETLANA glances over her shoulder, looking terrified, and runs offstage. TOWNSMAN stares after her. Lights fade.)
(SVETLANA runs onstage and promptly collapses, panting.)
SVETLANA: Who was that? I feel like I'm seen him before. (Realizes she is still clutching the music box, stares at it in mild horror) And this! There's something strange about this. (Begins to open music box) I shouldn't, but... (Opens music box with full resolution)
(Melody begins to play, blue light up, couple waltzes onstage. Spotlight on stage right)
YOUNG SVETLANA: (Excited) Mama, where are we going? How are we getting there? When are we coming --
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: Svetlana, be quiet! We'll get there when we get there!
YOUNG SVETLANA: But --
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: Shush!
YOUNG SVETLANA: But I --
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: NO!
(Spotlight fades, spotlight up stage left)
YOUNG SVETLANA: (Crying) M-mama? What am I supposed to do?
TOWNSMAN: (Seeing that YOUNG SVETLANA is crying) There, there now. Stop crying. What's the matter? These are dangerous times; a little girl like you shouldn't be out by herself. Where's your mother?
YOUNG SVETLANA: I-I don't know where she is.
TOWNSMAN: What happened to her?
YOUNG SVETLANA: Well, she was telling me to run away, and then there was this really loud bang, and then she just sort of fell over, and then --
TOWNSMAN: (Sharply, solemnly) Did she give you any directions? Anything you were supposed to do?
YOUNG SVETLANA: (Pulling out two ferry tickets) She gave me these papers, but I can't read what they say.
TOWNSMAN: (Reading tickets) Alright. Here's what you're going to do. Are you listening? (YOUNG SVETLANA nods) Good. You're going to go to the town port, do you know where that is? (She nods) Point to it. (She points offstage) Right. Show them this ticket when you get there and tell them that you need to get to this ship. Got it? (She nods) Right. Now, I need you to be a big girl because I can't come with you. Now, wipe away those tears, everything will be alright. Good luck! (Spotlight fades, couple waltzes offstage, blue light fades.)
(Lights up on SVETLANA, who looks ahead, dumbstruck)
SVETLANA: Damn it! I was so close to remembering what happened! (Beat) There's something not right about this music box. (Tentatively opens music box. Lights down, melody begins to play, blue light up, couple waltzes on. Spotlight on stage right. A boardwalk is leading up the the edge of a ship. FERRYMAN is standing at the bottom on the boardwalk.)
Damn my motivation. Or lack thereof. I shall finish this at a later hour.
Svetlana
Katya
Svetlana's Mother
Young Svetlana
Valodya
Soldier/Ferryman/Townsman
*The couple that is frequently dancing is actually the characters of KATYA and VALODYA.
Tink
(A eerily haunting "music box" waltz starts to play. A soft blue light comes up. A couple, dressed in ball outfits waltz on stage, dancing in time with the music. A small girl starts to laugh. The couple dances for a bit, and then waltzes offstage. The little girl starts to cry. Lights fade.)
(Lights up on the outside of a shabby looking bakery.)
KATYA: Out! Out! Shoo! Get out! I don't ever want to see your wretched face around here ever again! Shoo! Get out!
(A teenage girl is thrown backwards out the bakery door. A few personal belongings are thrown at her face. She starts to peruse the items to confirm she has everything.)
KATYA: That's the last time you've burned the bread in this bakery!
SVETLANA: (Horrified) My music box!
KATYA: (Closing door) Hm? What?
SVETLANA: My music box! I need it!
KATYA:(Irritated) Oh, yes. That. Stay here. I'll get it. (Exit through door)
(SVETLANA sits dejectedly on the ground, wiping away tears.)
KATYA:(Enter through door, and in considerably softer tone and expression) Here. Take it. (Holds out a small, ornate, square music box.)
SVETLANA: (Standing) Thank you, Katya. (Takes box dejectedly, and starts to collect belongings)
KATYA: (Reassuring and comforting) Listen. Sveta. It's not the end of the world. You'll find a new place to live. And a new job. I promise.
SVETLANA: But why? Why do I have to go? Do you not like me anymore?
KATYA: No, no, no, no, no. It's not that I don't like you -- and I do, but I just can't have you burning the bread and the pastries left and right!
SVETLANA: I can't help it! It's just so boring. All you do is sit around and watch bread rise! I can't stand it! And what if I can't find a job?
KATYA: (Exasperated) Sveta, trust me. I'm sure you'll be fine. When I found you wandering the streets of Moscow when you were a little girl, all you had were the clothes on your back and that little music box. You still managed. It's a pity you can't remember anything, though.
SVETLANA: May I please stay?
KATYA: No. Now go.
SVETLANA: Please?
KATYA: No! Now off with you before I chase you out myself!
(SVETLANA slowly collects her things and starts to exit stage left.)
KATYA: Good luck! Maybe we'll see each other again some day!
(SVETLANA waves goodbye to KATYA, KATYA exits through the door. SVETLANA continues on her way, hanging her head dejectedly. Exit SVETLANA stage left. Lights fade.)
(Lights up on a forest scene, enter SVETLANA stage left)
SVETLANA: Where should I go? It's not as if I have a home...
KATYA: (Offstage, as though SVETLANA is remembering it) When I found you wandering the streets of Moscow when you were a little girl, all you had were the clothes on your back and that little music box...
SVETLANA: (With dawning realization) ...Of course! Moscow! Maybe someone remembers me back there. (Exits stage right)
(Lights fade)
(Lights up, enter SVETLANA stage right)
SVETLANA: (Out of breath) Phew! I wonder how close I am to Moscow. It can't be much further. Never mind that, I need to take a break. (Sits down and leans against a tree. Slowly takes out the music box from bag, begins to sing melody under her breath.) Where did you come from? And why can't I remember anything? (Opens music box, lights down sharply)
(Music starts to play, soft blue light up, aforementioned couple waltzes into the center of the stage and continues to dance throughout the flashback. Spotlight up on stage left, where a little girl is talking to an older woman)
YOUNG SVETLANA: But Mama! Why do we have to go?
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: Hush, Sveta! It's just a vacation, don't complain! We'll be back soon.
YOUNG SVETLANA: But Mama!... (Spotlight off)
(Spotlight up on stage right, where a young girl is talking to an older woman)
YOUNG SVETLANA: But Mama! Why do we have to go?
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: Shut up! They'll hear you! We have to get out of here!
(YOUNG SVETLANA begins to cry)
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: I told you to shut up! (Slaps SVETLANA, causing SVETLANA to cry even harder. SVETLANA'S MOTHER cries out in frustration, grabs SVETLANA'S arm and starts to pull her offstage. Spotlight fades.)
(Blue light fades, couple waltzes off, music fades.)
(Lights slowly up on forest, which should look exactly how it did before SVETLANA opened the music box.)
(SVETLANA seems to be in a trance, staring at the music box. Suddenly, she wakes up, jarring the music box shut.)
SVETLANA: Wha-? I certainly don't remember that happening. Then again, I don't remember a lot of things.
(Standing) Well, I might as well get going again. (Picks up things and walks off stage left. Lights fade.)
(Lights up on city set. SVETLANA wanders onstage, looking around in wonderment. She stops and, looking dazed, leans against a wall and slides down it.)
SVETLANA: Why does this look so familiar?...(Irritated) Oh, I wish I could remember something. Anything. (SVETLANA begins to look in her bag for some food. She pulls out a piece of fruit, and stops when she pulls out the music box. She stares at for a while, then lets out a sigh of frustration.) Where am I?...
(Opens music box slowly, lights drop suddenly. Melody begins to play, blue light up, couple waltzes to centerstage. Spotlight on stage right on YOUNG SVETLANA and SVETLANA'S MOTHER.)
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: Have you got everything?
SVETLANA: Yes, mama! Where are we going?
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: It's a surprise, Sveta. If I told you, it would ruin it.
SVETLANA: Aww, c'mon! You can tell me! I'll still act surprised!
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: No, Sveta.
(Spotlight off stage right, spotlight on stage left on YOUNG SVETLANA and SVETLANA'S MOTHER.)
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: Run, Sveta! Run! Get out of -- (Gunshot. SVETLANA'S MOTHER'S eyes glaze over, and she falls to the floor. YOUNG SVETLANA continues to run, sobbing hysterically. SOLDIER runs onstage to SVETLANA'S MOTHER, checks her pulse, and continues running. Spotlight fades. Couple waltzes off, blue light fades.)
(Lights up on SVETLANA slumped against wall, unconscious. TOWNSMAN enters, sees SVETLANA, rushes over to her, and checks her pulse. SVETLANA wakes with a start, panics, grabs her things and begins to run offstage.)
TOWNSMAN: No, wait! Are you alright?
(SVETLANA glances over her shoulder, looking terrified, and runs offstage. TOWNSMAN stares after her. Lights fade.)
(SVETLANA runs onstage and promptly collapses, panting.)
SVETLANA: Who was that? I feel like I'm seen him before. (Realizes she is still clutching the music box, stares at it in mild horror) And this! There's something strange about this. (Begins to open music box) I shouldn't, but... (Opens music box with full resolution)
(Melody begins to play, blue light up, couple waltzes onstage. Spotlight on stage right)
YOUNG SVETLANA: (Excited) Mama, where are we going? How are we getting there? When are we coming --
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: Svetlana, be quiet! We'll get there when we get there!
YOUNG SVETLANA: But --
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: Shush!
YOUNG SVETLANA: But I --
SVETLANA'S MOTHER: NO!
(Spotlight fades, spotlight up stage left)
YOUNG SVETLANA: (Crying) M-mama? What am I supposed to do?
TOWNSMAN: (Seeing that YOUNG SVETLANA is crying) There, there now. Stop crying. What's the matter? These are dangerous times; a little girl like you shouldn't be out by herself. Where's your mother?
YOUNG SVETLANA: I-I don't know where she is.
TOWNSMAN: What happened to her?
YOUNG SVETLANA: Well, she was telling me to run away, and then there was this really loud bang, and then she just sort of fell over, and then --
TOWNSMAN: (Sharply, solemnly) Did she give you any directions? Anything you were supposed to do?
YOUNG SVETLANA: (Pulling out two ferry tickets) She gave me these papers, but I can't read what they say.
TOWNSMAN: (Reading tickets) Alright. Here's what you're going to do. Are you listening? (YOUNG SVETLANA nods) Good. You're going to go to the town port, do you know where that is? (She nods) Point to it. (She points offstage) Right. Show them this ticket when you get there and tell them that you need to get to this ship. Got it? (She nods) Right. Now, I need you to be a big girl because I can't come with you. Now, wipe away those tears, everything will be alright. Good luck! (Spotlight fades, couple waltzes offstage, blue light fades.)
(Lights up on SVETLANA, who looks ahead, dumbstruck)
SVETLANA: Damn it! I was so close to remembering what happened! (Beat) There's something not right about this music box. (Tentatively opens music box. Lights down, melody begins to play, blue light up, couple waltzes on. Spotlight on stage right. A boardwalk is leading up the the edge of a ship. FERRYMAN is standing at the bottom on the boardwalk.)
Damn my motivation. Or lack thereof. I shall finish this at a later hour.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Strings.
With a gargantuan crash, the earth is shaken. Can you feel the ground beneath you shift?
Slowly, they creak to life. Groaning with disuse. Twirling and spinning. Somewhere in the distance, a record starts to play, spinning out a haunting melody that is only heard in dreams. Nightmares. Horrific daydreams.
Gracefully, they waltz, in 3/4 time. See how they spin and dance? Orbiting around one grand celestial being. Their lithe limbs brushing, skin against skin.
They spin and turn. Turning like the pages of a book. Gliding this way and that. The dance crescendos in intensity. Whirling and whipping and sliding and gliding. Scuffing the floor with their feet.
Somewhere, in the distance, something goes horribly wrong.
The record, in all its glory, cracks in two. A cacophony of noise begins to pervade the air. The neck and bell of the phonograph, with as much grace and curvature of a swan, begin to droop. Melting. Liquefying. Falling apart, bit by bit.
There has been a disharmonious dissonance in the air. Shredding, tearing, biting. Two graceful figures stumble. Their strings entwine, twisting and wrenching. They break, they unwind.
Two marionettes, used, finished, and broken, tumble to the ground.
With a gargantuan crash, the earth is shaken. Can you feel the ground beneath you shift?
Slowly, they creak to life. Groaning with disuse. Twirling and spinning. Somewhere in the distance, a record starts to play, spinning out a haunting melody that is only heard in dreams. Nightmares. Horrific daydreams.
Gracefully, they waltz, in 3/4 time. See how they spin and dance? Orbiting around one grand celestial being. Their lithe limbs brushing, skin against skin.
They spin and turn. Turning like the pages of a book. Gliding this way and that. The dance crescendos in intensity. Whirling and whipping and sliding and gliding. Scuffing the floor with their feet.
Somewhere, in the distance, something goes horribly wrong.
The record, in all its glory, cracks in two. A cacophony of noise begins to pervade the air. The neck and bell of the phonograph, with as much grace and curvature of a swan, begin to droop. Melting. Liquefying. Falling apart, bit by bit.
There has been a disharmonious dissonance in the air. Shredding, tearing, biting. Two graceful figures stumble. Their strings entwine, twisting and wrenching. They break, they unwind.
Two marionettes, used, finished, and broken, tumble to the ground.
With a gargantuan crash, the earth is shaken. Can you feel the ground beneath you shift?
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Splash.
Splash. Drops of dew. Falling. Crying. It's in the rain. The sorrow. The anger. The hate. The fear. Who knows what else? Listen. Listen to the rain. Thousands of voices crying out in protest. Smashed to bits. Liquid glass. Irreplaceable. Here it comes again. The rain. Listen. Reflections of their souls. Angry souls. Fearful souls. Mystery. Reflect. Refract. Fractured into parts. Coloured parts. Hues of reds and greens. But most of all, tears of blue. Hear it in the rain. The incantation of hate. Sorrow. Cursing the souls of those that have turned against them. Souls. Blues. Greens. Reds. Ephemeral colours. Filling the oceans. Splash. Rivers of sorrow and hate. Streams of terror. Spread across the sky in a terrible arc. An arc of colours. Ephemeral colours. And all around them, the secrets. Whispered from ear to ear. From colour to colour. The joy and the rage. The hate and the sorrow. Tearing them apart. Analyzing them. All the while, destroying their purpose. Splash. The dew. Shining with the power of the sun in the morning light. Or is it twilight? Who can tell? Who can ever tell? Flash. The sky turns dark. Bang. A brightly coloured ball of light. Shining. Flashing. Who knows? Who will ever know? Arcing across the sky. A terrible arc. An arc of hatred. Of sorrow and remorse. Of liquid glass. Listen. Listen to the voices. Listen to what they say. Cursing those that have turned against them. The maze of moments. It locks them. Holds them. Binds them against their will. The ocean of hatred is swept around in motion, but without ever knowing the reason for the flowing. Flash. Darkened sky. Bang. Sphere of light.
It's either this or that way. It has to be. Joy or sorrow. They choose joy. Light fills the sky. No more are the colours. Gone, is the ball of light. The rain is repaired, never to fall again. Crying. Tears. But tears of happiness. Bit by bit, the flow of the rivers is stemmed. The ocean's hatred and fear is replaced by a shimmering sound. The sound of laughter. Bit by bit, the ocean dries up, leaving in its place, laughter. Unwittingly. The arc, band by band, is dismantled. Colour by colour. Hue by hue. And then it is gone. Vanished, from the moment the first drop touched the ground. Splash.
It's either this or that way. It has to be. Joy or sorrow. They choose joy. Light fills the sky. No more are the colours. Gone, is the ball of light. The rain is repaired, never to fall again. Crying. Tears. But tears of happiness. Bit by bit, the flow of the rivers is stemmed. The ocean's hatred and fear is replaced by a shimmering sound. The sound of laughter. Bit by bit, the ocean dries up, leaving in its place, laughter. Unwittingly. The arc, band by band, is dismantled. Colour by colour. Hue by hue. And then it is gone. Vanished, from the moment the first drop touched the ground. Splash.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Revelational Epiphanies.
Celebrations. There are revelers dancing around the Maypole. Rejoicing the destruction of a dangerous enemy. "She's gone!" they shout. They couldn't be happier. Right? They couldn't be happier. Look what they have; a fairytale ending. The one who killed her. He is praised. He seems happy enough. Because happy is what happens when all your dreams come true. Isn't it? Happy is what happens when all your dreams come true. "Speech! they shout. "Speech!"
He stumbles up to the front of the crowd. He clears his throat nervously and begins to speak.
"I couldn't be happier. Now that she is gone, happiness is spread throughout the land. We can stop living in fear. Though it is, I admit, the tiniest bit unlike I anticipated.
The crowd exchanged looks.
"But I couldn't be happier," he continued. "I simply couldn't be happier...Well. Not simply. Because getting your dreams, it's strange, but it seems a little, well, complicated.
The crowd stirs uneasily.
"There's a sort of...cost. There are a few things that get...lost. There are bridges you've crossed you didn't know you'd cross until you'd crossed them."
The crowd stirs again, louder this time.
"And if that joy, that thrill, doesn't thrill like you think it will--" he cuts off and pauses for a few moments.
"Well, with this perfect ending and the ballyhoo and celebrations, I couldn't be happier. Because happy is what happens when all your dreams come true."
"Isn't it?" he asked quietly.
The crowd is silent.
"Isn't it?" he demands, "What then? What is she, the Cruel One, was scared? What if she was alone and confused? What if she didn't know what she was doing? Are you happy? Are you happy knowing that you killed an innocent woman? Are you?"
The crowd is silent.
"Answer me!" he cries.
Finally, someone speaks.
"She had to be destroyed. She killed an unsuspecting civilian."
"You didn't answer my question! Are you happy with the idea that you might have killed an innocent woman?" he shouted.
"She had to be destroyed. This was our dream. We're happy..."
"You disgust me," he spat.
"...What were your dreams?"
He stumbles up to the front of the crowd. He clears his throat nervously and begins to speak.
"I couldn't be happier. Now that she is gone, happiness is spread throughout the land. We can stop living in fear. Though it is, I admit, the tiniest bit unlike I anticipated.
The crowd exchanged looks.
"But I couldn't be happier," he continued. "I simply couldn't be happier...Well. Not simply. Because getting your dreams, it's strange, but it seems a little, well, complicated.
The crowd stirs uneasily.
"There's a sort of...cost. There are a few things that get...lost. There are bridges you've crossed you didn't know you'd cross until you'd crossed them."
The crowd stirs again, louder this time.
"And if that joy, that thrill, doesn't thrill like you think it will--" he cuts off and pauses for a few moments.
"Well, with this perfect ending and the ballyhoo and celebrations, I couldn't be happier. Because happy is what happens when all your dreams come true."
"Isn't it?" he asked quietly.
The crowd is silent.
"Isn't it?" he demands, "What then? What is she, the Cruel One, was scared? What if she was alone and confused? What if she didn't know what she was doing? Are you happy? Are you happy knowing that you killed an innocent woman? Are you?"
The crowd is silent.
"Answer me!" he cries.
Finally, someone speaks.
"She had to be destroyed. She killed an unsuspecting civilian."
"You didn't answer my question! Are you happy with the idea that you might have killed an innocent woman?" he shouted.
"She had to be destroyed. This was our dream. We're happy..."
"You disgust me," he spat.
"...What were your dreams?"
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