Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission Contact | Participate
poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
armana Poezii, Poezie deutsch Poezii, Poezie english Poezii, Poezie espanol Poezii, Poezie francais Poezii, Poezie italiano Poezii, Poezie japanese Poezii, Poezie portugues Poezii, Poezie romana Poezii, Poezie russkaia Poezii, Poezie

Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special

Poezii Rom�nesti - Romanian Poetry



Texts by the same author

Translations of this text

 Members comments

print e-mail
Views: 8498 .

The black hole (pseudo-theatre)
screenplay [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [VeronicaValeanu ]

2009-03-08  |     | 


(Space): Don’t stay with your face averted when I’m speaking to you!

(God): There’s nothing more for me to be.

(Space): I was so beautiful when I met you. I had the longest legs: my left leg stretched to minus infinite, the right leg stretched to plus infinite. I used to be sacred. You’ve always wanted to be the best. You came to me disguised in the name of the Holy Spirit, to hold me in your arms.

(God): There’s nothing more for me to fill.

(Space): I remember when you got me pregnant. I was forced to invent a new dimension to be able to keep my pregnancy. Degree zero. (I had used it before to manifest my feminity, when I was atemporal.) You didn’t even want to see the child, to accept it. You despised our Time. He is growing up, one day he’ll revolt against his own father. In the name of the Son.

(God): There’s nowhere else for me to go.

(Space): …Then you made me a whore. You said I was always the same and bored you to death. You gave me to your bastard servants. They bore holes in my sap, weakened me. In the name of their Father.

(God): There’s nothing more for me to save.

(Space): One last thing for me to do.
(Space): - desperately plunges into what had remained of the space, herself, committing suicide)

(Later on)

(People): For millions of years, this unknown, dead comet has remained imprinted on the sky. This was the only matrix where God was born again and where he celebrates his survival. Ever since, we’ve been hacked, nobody can be born, nobody gets old, nobody dies. Each of us lives multiplied on three dimensions: body, soul and spirit. Don’t you want to be One? It is said we once were.
Let’s follow the comet! Amen.


.  |

poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
poezii Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. poezii
poezii  Search  Agonia.Net  

Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net

E-mail | Privacy and publication policy

Top Site-uri Cultura - Join the Cultural Topsites!