Today is my last day

The days are long and tiresome. My hands are small and soft, wrinkly from too much time in the bath. My eyes have no more tears. No more make up stained faces. It has all been erased and washed away like someone’s old memories. They are etched in my trunk hidden underneath to keep them safe. My heart moved on a while ago but my mind took it's time to catch up. But now it's free. Today is my last day. And then the thoughts of you will come any longer. I'm sad but only for a while. It will pass just as seasons change. And I'm off to do all of those things I couldn't do while we were two. My new life is waiting and I can't hold on any more and neither can you.

'Why do we sacrifice so much energy to our art? Not in order to teach others but to learn with them what our existence, our organism, our personal and unrepeatable experience have to give us; to learn to break down the barriers which surround us and to free ourselves from the breaks which hold us back, from the lies about ourselves which we manufacture daily for ourselves and for others; to destroy the limitations caused by our ignorance and lack of courage; in short, to fill the emptiness in us: to fulfill ourselves....We fight then to discover, to experience the truth about ourselves; to tear away the masks behind which we hide daily.'
Jerzy Grotowski


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