"Bad story of David Costa" stop in the middle of the stage in the joy of the last work ever sung with the script on the lips as a sign of paper known as many centuries, rehearse their lines before de que se levante el telón de su último soneto.
"Aún mantengo el recuerdo, el hacer click para entrar donde todos son desconocidos, sin embargo, nunca imaginé que el de ahora es el que más ignoro. Te mantienes estático, no eres ignorado, eres familiar, eras familiar, cuando aún no creías saber quién eras y no anticipabas tu muerte prematura, cuando te mantenías fuerte y tus convicciones desplazaban a las mías, cuando el corazón era el delator, cuando me elevabas para luego soltarme una y otra vez para sentir que nunca de tan alto había caído..."
(Justo en ese instante aparece el personaje principal, toma la obra, ni siquiera es suya, pero la toma y se dispone to act, you act it out. The idolatry
thousand verses sung in no time dream finally found its audience, it is recognized adored, is known in the magnificence.
dazzle lights, the scenery is colorful, the players know their parliaments as blood flowed from)
"My funeral had been premature, he never remembered the mask of death I saw the night before I met you, when I still devour my eyes, when not yet felt lost breath, when he still had the power to manage the words (I swear they were my words), when I could baste it and was not required to be diluted in them, no longer evading, it haunted me ... "
(The play reaches its climax at this point the viewer keeps teeth clenched and fists closed. The lights turn red and the music rushes)
"Is that your empty eyes gaze following with the darker pendulum, your ironic smile throwing its echoes in the bottom of a well, your simple words of narrator involved in opium dreams (You're such a good actor!) I moved to the land of dreams, where I was sleeping, and did not see that you were only one among the crowd. Did you sense the worst hangover, which occurs when one wakes up next to a stranger? "
(The red lights go down, you start elucidate the mystery, they begin to solve the constraints of function)
"I tried in vain to make an imitation of you project yourself in vain, in vain to become the most gold beetle and make you the most extraordinary stories, elevate above the waves that brought me your manuscript as if it came in a bottle.
I wanted to give you an identity, dignificarte, but do not know, short of time.
(I did not want to be hurtful, I did not say what they really missed you was weight) "
(The star of the show remains on stage, standing, waiting for the starting role, but nobody comes and is suspended and returns the next day with more enthusiasm and be exhausted, because it will not reach anyone. Neither
next, or the subsequent ...
He realizes that the function was trying to show is no longer good enough and that their role is becoming less credible.
goes home and writes his best work, the setup is great, and the first monologue.
But not mount anything, no work, no stage, no lights, no nothing, because he realizes that his role and has no sense, because their only audience is dead, and not a suicide or murder, or natural death. Just realize that he is dead because the actor has been sent to the worst of punishments: When forgetting)
"What now? Now I hold in my breast, sir, your name stays in my nipples and my spitting, biting my saliva drag your vertigo, their silence does not hinder, not mistaken, sir, your silence relieved.
Now note that has always been a shadow, a projection of a thousand fantasies, the oval portrait of a being that grows when you feed your ego, just a photographer who can not see beyond an image, your own image.
The stab hurts the most is that given in the back.
I'm sorry, really sorry, but you can not charge me with his implacable presence ... "
(An actor dies, like so many thousands of actors die each year, has served the sentence, Vendetta is no more than the forgotten, even hatred, or bitterness, only oblivion, no one in the room, never was.
Lower the curtain. Just the function)
