Friday, 15 May 2009

Waiting for Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart...

It was... how to explain it?... Magic?
I walk amongst them, but I am not there; I am somewhere else.
They're all experiencing 'reality', whereas I am in a place in my mind.
It's like being out of myself; or maybe like being 'in' myself for the first time ever.
I can hear them talking, I can see things, objects; I recognize the space and the time but all I can feel is the emotions the play evoked in me. It was weird since the begining. I went there like 'dragged' by a silent and invisible force. I could say 'my fingers' took me there. I could feel my fingers asking me to stay. I swear I was about to go, but this subtle interaction of my fingers and the air.. I just had this 'feeling'. I knew I had to be there tonight. 'For a reason', I thought. I was told 'you'll have to come back in June', but my fingers said: 'Wait a bit; walk around... stay.' Maybe it's what we call 'instinct'. Yes, it was. It was my 'instinct'. Got it. But it seems like my instinct has been modified to be creative and now I feel like in outer space. Like in a time capsule. I feel as if I finally understand what he meant when he wrote: '... unless Godot comes. -And if he comes? -We'll be saved.'-
I feel. I understand.

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