MOM Goodbye

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"Tonight flew the gap in suicide of suicides. I am no longer the Eagle wounded in the shooting, but I fall to the bottom of the Earth buried between thousand graves, dust to dust..."

Jai Masters.

Until this moment mini Theatre in COSMOFUNNEL has been based in conversations and monologues, a dialogue of fantastic cutting with a mirror, with a muse by awareness, and a sacral monologue addressing God. This time the action takes place between the visual narrative and a monologue as a conversation between a deceased and the only character in the play.

* Goodbye Mother *

When the curtain goes up on the small stage the unique scenery of the work, in the center of the scene appears a sofa cheap 1970s, on both sides a few chairs, a table and a sideboard, back, a big picture of a wedding presiding over the wall, next to it a heavy and worn wooden armchair upholstered in Green Velvet.

A door opens and a woman with a bottle of black porcelain hands enters the family dining room, look to your around and breathe with feeling, pulls out a cell phone bag and press call, after back to the public exchange impressions with your partner.

-I'm well, well... everything so well that you can be in this situation, I have come a few minutes ago, and I did so because I must assume the obvious that helps me to break that curse of fate, Hahahahahaha, no, do not worry, everything, absolutely everything you have assumed, from the most trivial to the worst.

Women are silent a few minutes while listening to your partner, then he replied trying to appear calm.

-Don't worry, I'm fine, but I need to stay here in solitude a few minutes before closing this House forever, I also want to pick up some belongings concerning my privacy, when you hand over the keys to RMRSTANSA for sale don't want to that nothing mine in any of these cabinets and drawers, is no no, they are not big bags, Hahahahahaha! no, nor is it heavy furniture, it's letters, some old photographs and some small object with no material value but which belongs to my children and do not want to make exposed to the curiosity of anyone. Perfect, when you leave the floor call and come to get me, a kiss.

The woman keeps the cell phone in the bag and she turns to the family portrait, the doll that cries, the heinous and perverted spawn, painting and his father seem to admire it from afar, excited and dropped on the worn couch between sobs, watch them and as if they were present question...

-Why?

-I always knew that I didn't want to, but what I could not imagine ever is that hatred, you forgave a thousand times all the slights, all the vile, all offences and all the villainies only by love, I looked for justification to the unjustifiable by all the tragedies and all the misfortunes of the family environment, but that silence an accomplice and that vacuum at a critical time not will forgive you it never though this condemn my soul to not belong to no one and to wander alone through the universe for always and forever...

-!Never!

The woman gets up and deposited the urn of ceramic on the dusty Dresser, Fanny, the old black cat of his mother comes hissing from under sofa, the woman takes it and the narrow lovingly in her arms, after a few seconds of silence and the black cat in the arms form tempered woman moves to the picture and to the coldness of the four faces open-heart speaks forcefully and decisively.

-No, never triumph crowned your betrayal without limits or has been no trace of your iniquity in my heart, in life everything depends on the point of view of the viewer and your borders have always been far from my landscapes, I loved that unconditional love that children love their parents, the in love to her lovers, as love friends all loved parents to their sons and brothers to their brethren, your contempt, your mediocrity, your wickedness and all your deceptions have manufactured the antidote needed to overcome this ordeal that put me fate and gives emotional strength to Western.

Silence, SOBs,

Sadness and outrage.

Treason, locks,

Lies and mediocrity.

Joyful silences,

Joy and heroism.

Mutation, charming,

Shadows and simplicity.

Woman leaves the cat next to the urn and as if he were playing a dance within a ritual begins to open and close drawers, letters, small useless objects and old photographs are being examined with curiosity by women, small sorrows and small joys shaped memory kept for decades in the drawers of the home, the woman after selecting some memories begins to empty drawers in large black bags for waste Once finished the task women without that it can avoid cover face with hands attempting to hide the vision of her tears in the eyes of the characters in the family box.

Women caught the cat in your lap and prepares to leave, back facing to the box to say:

-You were a bad daughter, a bad sister, a bad wife, a bad mother and a bad friend, always felt empathy with those people that you manipulated and that hurt you, and ignorant hurting those who, like me, you wanted to. Goodbye mother and I hope that God will forgive all your mistakes and welcome you in her womb, do not deny that both the bad and good you are always part of my and although forever will this scar in my soul, mind has passed it, you'll be this real and living like a nightmare that chokes the unconscious , but you can never dwell within my heart.

Goodbye MOM, the only positive of your unnatural vacuum is that during all that time I still of life, even in the most adverse stories never you will miss or do I fear loneliness, abandonment, or most perverse death.

The mini curtain goes down as the woman leaves scene, by mini mini room speakers sounds the heartbreaking voice of the poet by Oregon, Karen Dalyea reciting MOM Goodbye.

We are imperfect machines,

With expiration date,

We are Chinese shadows,

Souls full of loneliness,

Goyescas pages, we are

Stories of iniquity.

Goodbye Mother,

Your hands, and

My hands,

Never be

They will play.

MOM Goodbye,

Your eyes and

My eyes,

Never be

You will find.

Goodbye Mother,

Your creeds, and

My creeds,

Never be

They fit.

MOM Goodbye,

Your dreams and,

My dreams,

Never be

They will make.

Lucas Lazar. Telling Stories.

"And from the crowd came a boy who asked the Prophet with resolute voice. When we know that you now is the time of the great cataclysm? There are a few signs that warn us of the fatal? "That time will come devouring as Saturn devoured his own children, a time where human life is worth nothing compared with the power and the money, a time of globalized crime and infinite torture where all citizens of the planet go bananas of hatred, fear, anger and misery"

The Wise Man and the Beggar Woman. The Sermon of Adras / Final Part.

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