Behind the blinding lights and the attributes, the requisites of a
staged play entitled life, we all hide our faces. My eyes hurt from the
strong lux shining down on me. Under the pale, weeping spotlights we
slave on. The bruised eyelids quickly covered up with precious porcelain
masks. The fading ring of clashing cymbals on the background. Sweat and
dust shaken up from below, sticking to our lips like bees on bittersweet
honey. Fixed our makeup to conceal our nature.

My mask, my shelter. No longer - it is bursting. Tiny cracks in the fine
Chinese porcelain indicate the beginning of the end. Muscle spasm. My
teeth feel like I'm biting on ice that never melts. A bloody tear runs
out of my eye, gently rolling over the glassy surface. I break off the
mask, with bone-thin fingers, desperately trying to rip off shards of
parchment skin. I feel regenerated, energy fluxing trough my mind. Power
surge for the soul. I have to break trough this constricting skin.
Imprisoned I crawl, unable to liberate myself of what covers my skeletal
architecture. My mouth is stitched shut with steel wires, or so it
feels. I can't scream, I can't howl like the wind in winter, I can't
roar like the agonized beast of burden at night.

But I am free now. Free at last, free to shed my anger. Free to become a
puppet dancing to the masters beat.



by Adrian *aap Egger, 2004
(thanks Adrian)