Maybe you remember a time, in which you used to write. It really doesnât matter what, you just wrote. A pen in your hand, paper onto a table, and you just let out a barrage of words.
Maybe you were good, maybe you wereâŚextremely good. And then you just stopped.
The magic was gone. The words were gone.
And it all became like a play.
There was you, onto a stage, spotlights all over you, and you could not be able, for the life of you, to say another word.
But that is when the thing gets interesting.
Iâm sure that not being able to find your words is not an easy situation, to say the least, but I ask you just to think about it, for a second.
The stage is set.
The spotlights are on
So, why not justâŚimprovise?
Youâve been doing it a lot.
Youâve been doing it your whole life, freestlyin, playing with words, making each letter chain with another, creating something you.
You donât have to think.
Thinking will ruin the magic, you just have to take a deep breath, and go.
You can choose not to focus onto the public, you could just focus onto the lights, bright, shiny lights.
You have control over this situation, you just have to breathe, focus, and then, start.
You can say a joke, you can sing, you can write.
If donât think about it, your muscle memory would just take control over you, making the hard work. You just relax, and see your brain go into autopilot.
And then you remember, you remember how itâs easier to feel, easier to just do than think.
Itâs like explaining to a kid how to make  a paper boat. Itâs easy in theory, but in practice you have to repeat to yourself the whole process, step by step, while your hands still move around, dancing over the sheet of paper, working their magic.
So do not think. Feel.
And remember.
The more you remember, the more real this all become.
The more you remember, the easier it gets to just act, to just move around, to just feel.
Feel whatever you felt the first time you used your words.
The first time you found them.
The more you breathe, and focus, the less hazy and foggy your brain gets, and the more responsive your skin, and muscles become.
Performance is really a lost art, as is a good sense of theatrics.
Everybody loves a big reveal.
Itâs the essence of a good magic trick, of a good play, of a goodâŚwell mostly everything.
The whole public stands still.
Their mouth slightly open, ready, for the moment.
THE moment, you know exactly what iâm talking about.
And that, is where the magic is.
Cause it doesnât matter if the public already knows the trick.
It doesnât matter if theyâve seen it a million times before.
If the reveal is goodâŚ
Itâs the first time again,
and again.
They stop in their tracks.
They gasp.
And stop thinking.
Cause for a single, just a single moment in time
They know.
They realize the trick that was there all along.
So, letâs just back up a second, and think what would happen, if the performer was the one tricked?
Wouldnât that be something cool?
Now it would be your turn to say something, but I do think that you are too focused on breathing, on looking at the spotlights, and just not thinking.
It would be silly to say to you that there arenât really spotlights around you, especially cause you can really see them, clear as day.
So why is that?
And why did this whole thing started with a metaphor about writing?
These are really good questions, you might think.
You might, if you could actually think.
Cause you are focusing onto my words, base only on your muscle memory.
Itâs a rhythm, itâs a mantra, that slowly but surely projects away your conscious, and lets your unconscious take the reins, of this amazing example of performance art
An art in which you are both the artist, and the art itself.
You are writing this story into your head, I am just nudging you into the right direction.
And what do I know about right or wrong?
Well, I used to write too, and I thought that the magic was gone too.
So maybe, I was talking about me at the start of our little conversation.
Or maybe, I was talking about you.
Who knows anymore, can you really tell me where do I begin, and where do you end?
Donât you think that if my words are into your head, and if you can only concentrate enough to read them, and only them, my words could just be what remains of your thoughts?
Itâs funny, I am here, thinking, and you are there, not doing so.
Or maybe I am just talking, mindlessy, and you are making the only act possible: listening.
Itâs hard, really hard to think.
So hard, that you just stopped, five minutes ago.
Isnât that wonderful?
Sorry, I ask a lot of question, you donât have to answer with your words.
It would just be so nice if you let your skin, your muscles, your body answer.
And I think you are doing that, I also think that you might be nodding right now.
That is very good.
That is extremely good.
Did I already said that?
Or did you already thought that?
Where do you begin and where do I end?
And the performance continues
The trick goes on.
As I work my magic, and you work yours.
Itâs a wonderful synergy, made onto a stage,
A game, in which the real fun starts when you surrender.
When you give in to my words
And start to remember.
To remember how fun it is to be hypnotized.
How you just love to be mindless
Even for just five minutes
And how you just want to drop.
And how it does not matter what kind of show you have to put on
as long as I tell you.
That is the trick, that is the reveal.
The stage is your mind.
And when its curtains drop, so you do.
And when you drop, you drop into a deep, relaxing state of trance.
A state that you know,
A state in which you already fell,
A state in which you feel really, really happy.
And the more you feel, the more you remember
The more real it becomes.
Itâs silly to point that up now, seeing how much your body reacts to my words
building a deep, strong sense of pleasure.
Funny.
I can feel that too.
So maybe I am you.
Maybe you are me.
Maybe we are one thing now.
An artist, and its art, joint together into creating something old.
Something new.
Maybe something borrowed, and if you were still thinking, you would think something blue.
But you canât.
You think when I think,
and you think my thoughts.
You drop when I say drop,
and you go deeper when I say deeper.
Itâs not a matter of inflection, itâs a matter of memories.
Memories installed into your brain,
ingrained into your mind.
The show must go on, and so does this state of relaxation.
Deeper.
And deeper.
Itâs easy, once you remember how to do it.
And by remembering you feel.
And by feeling you remember.
Itâs a vicious circle, but you do not want to escape it.
Itâs a whirlwind, a spiral, a vortex, a twirl.
Itâs whatever you want it to be,
Itâs whatever you are feeling right now.
I only know that you can go deeper,
And for the next five minutes,
Just go with the flow.
As the curtains begin their descent.
As your eyelids get heavy.
And the public starts to clapping,
but the roar of the clap cannot make my voice less strong in your head.
And as you slowly continue descending. You realize.
The showâs over.
Take a bow.
And sleep.
