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Screen Dump 282

Everything, indeed, is at least double.
          - Marcel Proust, The Captive

You draw a line . . . in a sandstorm . . .
recalling moments when everyone seemed a double
when you wished everyone was a double
when rehearsals were contagious
and life was lived . . . by connecting dots . . .

I tried this . . . it didn't work . . . so I tried that . . .

No problemo, dude! . . .

I come here to hide
to try to connect the end to the beginning . . .
naming names to avoid confusion
intimating nothing . . .

There is a loneliness here
an underwhelming
warped facades . . . forsaken by cameras
aimed to capture the day-to-day . . .

The line shape-shifts . . .
into a world of understudies . . . with benefits . . .
wheeling dealing free agents . . .
with unfair trade promises . . . and closed source stories . . .

Stories begin and end in oblivion . . .

Players run amok

skipping paragraphs
chapters

crossing lines . . . willy-nilly . . .

You learn your lines . . . inside and out . . .
enter the scene
deliver them . . . in a panel truck . . .
without embellishment
without the unsolicited recap
without the blithering omniscience . . . of those in the know
without recrimination . . .

You manage this . . . despite the swirling madness . . .

Paolo Roversi