Frankenstein

Made by Us: a Fool of myself.

I’ll stitch up a new self from the carcass and the leftovers of our memories and dreams.

I’ll have pieces of different people; from those who loved me, and also from those who hurt me (especially the ones who seem to be so successful now, because they might have been doing something right).

I’ll wear all of your clothes; a piece from each.

I’ll learn from your words; even those you keep locked inside. Semiotics helps make them bright.

I’ll synthesize a potion from your remains and drink it all up.

I’ll fake it till I make it. The Acting Method always works, and I take my script from the world. I take my script from you. I take it from him, and from her, too.

I’ll fake it till we make it. If you don’t know where it comes from, and if it has been done and inwardly absorbed thoroughly, can you tell whether it is really fake?

Does a child not fake its own behavior till it truly belongs? It mimics its brother, its mother, its sister and father. It absorbs from the environment what it sees fit till it fully incarnates it.

Why, as grown-ups, do we stop mimicking each other out of pride? We seem to start, for some reason, to restrict ourselves to only take from others either lust, love, remorse or envy.

We seem to fail to acknowledge that we are eternally children, till death unmakes us.

I’ll perform till I become the Ideal me. Join the play.