The evening starts with party favors and a rising tide of nerves and uncertainty.
A cool breeze of communal warmth and laughter sweeps over the audience.
Their minds at ease as the performers bleed on their knees.
They spew out and onto dialogues and monologues of white-male-dominant power structures, corporate police, homophobic indifference, the degradation of humanity, and hegemonic rules of thought and identity.
A keynote of the evening.
The powers that be tell us, “This is a man’s world.”
Even better for a rich man.
A world in which women are for popping out babies.
Seen and not to be heard.
In the background, on an arm.
Here for show and tell.
I dance with laughter as the orators shatter the mold.
They beat it with a hammer and set it on fire.
Through digital shoot ‘em up a new story is told
A chorus of resistance takes hold as the evening unfolds.
And we all grow old.
Here now a humble man stands before you bold.
He is a man to admire. A man unlike me.
Kind and gentle.
He is charismatic.
A joyous, celebratory man.
He empowers and inspires.
He seeks a connection.
A gift, a message to the world.
Resisting complacency, he seeks to mend a schism.
But they walk by, connected, yet disconnected.
A critical approach. A father, an effigy of a hero.
A life coach. He is everything we are not but should be.
This is the morning sunshine giving us what we need.
The water that sprouts the seed.
Resisting creed and resisting greed.
We bleed and breed.
Freed from fairy tales in the lead.
Casting off the Saints.
Tearing down the norms.
Daring to make a connection.
Dying to live.
Nurturing and guiding
Providing and colliding.
Making a choice.
They make a choice.
Making a choice, they give their voice, so others may rejoice in a better life.
Building churches with dust and breath, handing back the masters’ death.
Those that seek to consume and presume until nothing is left.
Stomping the ground, they resist the soul’s theft.
This is performativity in action. Reflexivity, like a snake eating its own head.
Both audience and performer in the same bed. A slaughter of sheep and pigs.
Mothers bursting at the seams, shrugging off their dreams.
Forging iron and steel, without a team.
Subtle subversity saturates the psyche.
This is not merely resistance. This is a monkey wrenching of everything.
Together we disrupt and bend. Fight the good fight.
We build with our hands, and create with our language.
We may win, or we may lose.
But we refuse to ignore the clues.
I see you all, big and small
Each of you, forty feet tall
Making the call
I am utterly inspired by
Your writing on the wall
I am proud to share these halls
I did not expect this to happen. What is going on? What happened? I cannot let them in my head. I have to be that strong silent type, but that is not me. I could never be silent. What is silence? Does silence even exist? Wait, the performances are over? We were just getting started. Just when we were getting started, the circle breaks.
The lights dim and click off from inactivity. This is the end of our circle it seems, but tomorrow a new circle begins. Maybe one or maybe none of us will be there. I don’t think that I really care. I’m just glad that I was here. Whatever this is and was, I’m glad I was there.
You all inspire me.
You all inspire me.
Because of you
I write more, care more, make more, smile more and most of all, I live life more.
Without people like you, life would be a bore.
A melodramatic chore of urban folklore.
Beautiful and powerful creatures.
You are my family, friends, and teachers.
Before we leave, before we say goodbye.
Before this bastard drops the curtain.
I must ask for a favor.
All I ask it that you just be you.
Not the you that you think you need to be.
Not the you that has been crammed down your throat.
Just be you until your face turns blue, and you pass through.
Just be you. I have only one request.
Please, just be you.
Exit through the north door.