Photo: Anwar Ramadhan via Pixabay
A monologue and a poem, recited within The Finn-Brit Players' production Poetry & Jazz – Remembrance:
Dreamwalker
In my pre-teens I used to be a sleepwalker. I would wake up in a room different from the one I went to sleep in, and in the morning people would tell me accounts of my nightly movements and mutterings. Of course, I knew nothing of it and would often be quite perplexed by the whole incident.
Since my adolescence, I haven’t had new reports of such involuntary adventures (Thank the universe!), but my dreams remain quite active and eventful still. And I remember a lot of them. The weird thing is that I am not sleepwalking anymore, but would often have the same post-waking-up confusion, as I find myself in the middle of something, my mind had just come back from a daydream (or a deep thought about the world, as I like to call it, but in the end it’s the same difference), and I pray to all forces I believe in that in the meantime I had behaved at least as a semi-functioning adult. This is not strictly sleepwalking, as I am not asleep, but in the end, it may be the same difference again.
In my monologue “Dreamwalker”, I will share a mixture of my nightdreams and my daymares, in the hope that someone in the crowd would know their Freud well enough to make sense of them. Or at least, they would be willing to help me with my homework.
The child invisible
"What is your superpower?”
This slightly worn-out question is a part of the standard roster of icebreakers, utilized at parties or getting-to-know-you company events. And I am always delighted to hear it, I assure you. So, with all of my unbounded love for icebreakers and superpowers, and a tiny pinch of cynicism, I sometimes tend to reply,
"I used to have a superpower, but not any longer. I used to be an invisible child.”
I grant you, this is a bit darker than the situation deserves, but it comes from a true place. And the more I reflect on the black joke, the more I ... get to know myself (now, this is irony, Alanis).
"The child invisible" is a poem that recalls, regrets, and ruminates on my former powers. It’s an elegy about growing up and how your superpower grows with you, but not always in the way you would expect.
Additional credits:
The first image is originally from The Finn-Brit Players' webpage for the production.
The third image is by Anwar Ramadhan via Pixabay.