Media > Dramaturgy

The Soul and the Mind, intimately

The Mind: Listen, think about your future. You have no more time.
The Soul: Why? 
The Mind: Because life is short. 
The Soul: Leave me alone! I live for the moment. 
The Mind: Consider though: it is crucial to look ahead to the future.
The Soul: I need tenderness and repentance! 
The Mind: Conscience reminds me these are scarce commodities nowadays. Unfortunately, they are a manifestation of weakness. (Thinks. There follows a long and uneasy pause.)  
The Soul: If youíre so cold, run away from me! You never asked me, "How do you feel today?" If I fall, will you catch me? If I get lost, will you show me the right way? 
The Mind: Join me on the way to your redemptionÖ 
The Soul: I wish to awaken the power of your imagination, the boundlessness of thought, the artistic expression of the feelings that rage inside me. 
The Mind: The automatic intelligent rationalization of phenomena is preferable to your distinct and original style. 
The Soul (hysterically): I want YOU! I want to feel each part of you. Subconsciously, I find you always and everywhere. Give me your hand, sit by me for a while. We havenít got any more time. I canít wait! Iíve lost my patience. 
The Mind: Each unfulfilled dream is like a wingless bird, a love that never took place, a malady with no visible wounds. There is nothing to be done. You had better grow used to it. 
The Soul: What time is it? I never wear my watch. Iíve greeted each minute raptly. 
The Mind: I have started wearing my watch, but I no longer trust it. I trust time as a message. 
The Soul: We consciously lie to each other. Iíd sell my dreams for your illusions. What is your price?
The Mind: They are not for sale. They are my salvation. 
The Soul: Whereíre we going? Whereíre we headed? 
The Mind: In our rush for glory, money and power, we have forgotten to seek for ourselves. 
The Soul: Matter is beautiful. Iím thirstyÖ 
The Mind: The corporeal is a deceit, the outcome of a mood. 
The Soul: I stand at the threshold of hope. 
The Mind: I am frozen in a position of future! 
The Soul: Iím waiting for the miracle! 
The Mind: I have been amputated of faith, hope and love.  
The Soul: When are you going to leave your world of logic? 
The Mind: Quiet. Calm down. 
The Soul: When shall I conceive love? 
The Mind: When the girl meets the boy. 
The Soul: The words are smoldering inside the panic of a voluptuous caress, embrace and kiss. 
The Mind: The pain that you feel and the mighty spirit that I carry give birth to communion with creatures from other dimensions, an ecstatic dance, a secret rite, a way to open your consciousness to the world. 
The Soul: What would I be without the mix of music styles sounding inside me Ė jazz, rock, soul, funk, salsa, bossa nova, samba, reggae, hip-hop ... I canít list all my states. 
The Mind: An unrequited love makes you act the loneliest thing ever born.
The Soul: How can I tell apart good and evil in my artlessness?  
The Mind: Each passing minute sees us growing cunning, insincere, inert. We are blind slaves to our impulses.
The Soul: I hold the key to our truth.  
The Mind: Yet please ask my advice now and then. Do not entirely ignore me! Transform your consciousness from "me" to "Me", that is, "Us" together. This shall bring you PEACE and JOY in times of hardships and trials.


Desislava Tomova
(39 Grama newspaper, 15-30 April 2006)