LIFE GOES ON ON STAGE

I had a dream this morning; I was dragging an umbilical cord that was supposed to be gone long ago. In the quietness of the aurora, my unconscious mind was purging hidden fears through fiction based on reality. You read a page, you assimilate it and pass it, but somehow, sometimes, a reflex movement of the hand, turns it back. It is like you didn’t squeeze the orange with the necessary pressure; like if the remaining liquid, barely perhaps, just a cubic millimeter, will complete the potion, and turn it into a vivifying elixir. I saw my old address abandoned, it was a cemetery of good time’s snapshots. I came into the whale’s belly, decorated with spider webs and ribcages; I can’t explain how this little known script created such a touching extravaganza. I saw dancers, and there was a music player repeating three or four songs once and again and again; they were rehearsing. I can’t resign to the fact that they will go, because when that will happen, the place will stay lifeless. In my illusion, I tried to get hooked to the walls fiercely with my nails, closing the entry as well as the exit. Nothing would work, it was unstoppable. I didn’t even think before that this could really happen. I got up today being an orphan on an empty stage, but as the day has being going by, I have come to the point of discovering that I have just become the new playwright. B_Nour