MVLTVRS / Finalist in Category 2: Audio Drama, Documentation, Sound Scape
MVLTVRS the Tone is a contribution by Adriana Essén, Fabian Roos, et al. (Sweden, Gothenburg Academy of music and drama).
ESSAY TO A
When death comes knocking on my door, a thought unarguably goes out to you. Where are you today? How are you feeling? Probably better now.
I miss your support. You always kept calm, almost living in denial. “A dreamer”, like my mum used to call you.
A colleague and a friend of mine hanged himself last night. What do you say? Life is so fucking cruel sometimes. Or was it death that’s cruel?
You never feared death. Or maybe you lived in avoidance, postponing the thought of your near mortality. I wish I could’ve asked you how it feels to know that you’re going to die. But I probably wouldn’t have dared to ask you anyway.
Everyday life seems meaningless when our fragility creeps upon us. You never told anyone you where sick until we saw it with our own eyes. Maybe my friend kept it to himself too. He just took his life. And parts of me understand him.
Correction: his illness took his life. Just like your illness took your life. And I could be the next one in line, we really don’t know.
I’m thinking a lot about my future these days. But it’s obvious that my priorities are off. While thinking of my own petty upcoming career goals, something bigger is going on. And I might be missing it.
Life with all its beautiful clichés. Finding balance. Floating and fragmentation of time. Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans and so on…
Thoughts of death. To one day be united with you, with my friend, frights me of course. Frights me to not think about it. Frights me to think about it a lot.
So I try to find a little breathing space.
To give room for the unexpected.
Where I might find some answers.
Answers to why you disappeared so quickly.
Why you fell ill.
Why the world is assembled the way it is.
But foremost. In the room of the unexpected, I can stop and truly be in mourning. In thoughts of you. Of him. Life and death.
There I’ll open up for dialog with what’s impossible to express
I re-read our text messages and I remember our encounters, dinners and hangouts. Our arguments. My worries for you and the fact that you where ill and ignorant about it. It still pisses me off.
But it also makes me sad, sad that you left my mother alone too soon. And I think about your son. That I should contact him and tell him your version.
But I write this text message instead. I write this message to see if it reaches you. I know, I know, it’s not going to reach you; I have your old phone goddamn it. But for some reason, I still keep your number.
So I try it out. Maybe, you’re on the other side of the fragmentation of time, reading this. Feeling what I’m feeling. Like a projection of thin air bouncing right back at me.
And suddenly, I sense you sitting next to me, smiling slyly. It’s slightly annoying. But still. I feel your tongue-tied presence.
I send you the text message. The longest I’ve ever written.
"Roger that", I hear you say.
Your bonus daughter
Ps. At first the notification on my phone said that the text message wasn’t sent to you. But then, when I looked again the notification was gone. Weird. Ds.