Bonds


1:    I'm sorry about this morning.

2:    We're getting used to it now.

1:    You woke me from a dream.

2:    The air has changed.

1:     A long dream. A lot of things happened.

2:    When I meet someone in the road, there is nothing.

1:    I travelled a lot.

2:    My mother, for example, I will never see her again.

1:    I remember flying, across the Pacific. I didn't have to move my arms like a bird, I just had to think.

2:    She was my step-mother. We were unkind to her.

1:    I remember treading clouds. Bare with me.

2:    Now she is probably dead. My real mother is also probably dead.

1:    Their was a fruit which I picked and as I picked it I thought, 'she will appreciate this, this will make a wonderful gift'.

2:    I have two fallen mothers. I start to wonder why I should begin to care for anyone.

1:    Fruit picked from a fucking cloud above the Pacific, that's pretty special.

2:    But I do not think this for long. There are few choices left for me, the choice to hope is a power.

1:    But as I reached to pick this thing, it was an orange. But it was blue, with flecks of diamond. As I reached for it

2:    Yes, empowering.

1:    I fell. All the way into our bedroom.

2:    I hope for peace. I can hope for peace.

1:    And I woke up. I was still asleep.

2:    It is difficult sometimes not to hope for purging. Is it truly right to be passive? Is that not exactly what they desire?

1:    You weren't there. In bed. It was mid-day. The sunlight was bleaching our walls as I watched. I saw our dust in the...

2:    Passive, placid.

1:    I wanted to find you, to tell you about my dream.

2:    She held both of my hands as she told me, you must above all hold a light. In the dark be a beacon. She was
telling me this.

1:    I walked down our stairs. I could hear you in the kitchen. I stood in the living room and saw you with a man that looked like me. You were bent over the counter. The man looked just like me but he never smiled and he kept going like a machine. Just kept at you. Your eyes rolled over to me and you cried out my name. But it wasn't my name.

2:    Why must I be the light? Why must I be the light?

1:    I reached for a knife.

2:    When I feel so dark.

1:    But I couldn't hurt you so I scrambled for the paracetamol and filled myself, it ran like sand down my throat.

2:    These are the testing times. When a man's character is defined. This is what I tell myself. You are being judged.

1:    I faded to white watching you love me in my dreams you woke me up and asked me why I was touching myself.

2:    And when the time comes.

1:    Well I wanted to say that when you came home two nights ago so late and drunk and smiling and stumbling and you wouldn't tell me anything and I was the image, the image, the image of calm and made you a pretty hot chocolate and we sat next to each other and I asked you again where you had been and you threw the mug at me and I was the image, the image, the image of calm, I just wanted to say...why are you smiling?