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Arlekino

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Where is my never fading, edgy smile? Where is the rhetoric of smart remarks, besting the best of minds,

     The kaleidoscope of life of ever changing moods and scenery of settings, the ever changing stage of entrances and exists.   One person is carrying a suitcase full of hats to better suit sentimentality of the moment.  Coming into the unity of feeling variation, the range of speed and intensity of sparked emotions, he pulls a hat, puts it on, and smiles.  A different expression is on the face of a brilliant actor. Now he is crying.  Wiping the crystal tears with a sleeve, he is looking for a comfort of leaning shoulder.  The inspiration of the moment, the fury of battling, erupting forces are coming into one for an unforgettable performance. 

     Arlekino- a mocker of the crowds, a comedian with a twigging, ragged smile- the undone makeup, the smudged paint is mixing with the real tears this time around.  But the lights are deemed, the curtain fell, there are no clapping hands—he is all alone in the dressing room, surrounded with the shadows of the reflections of his past and present.  No one to witness the desperation of the moment. No one to see the tiredness, the sadness of a seasoned actor. He is there by himself, allowing the quietness of the moment to simply feel and be.  He is there staring in the mirror, studying the dimness of his own silhouette, taken back with a great surprise at what he is seeing.  Is it really me?  He questions out loud. “I don’t recognize this man.  Where is my never fading, edgy smile?  Where is the rhetoric of smart remarks, besting the best of minds, displaying a piercing caliber of thought? “

     The lover of spoken natural expressions and ladies touch is all alone lost in the smoothness of the moment.  The drapes of velvet curtains, the hanging snow white ropes, the golden frames of Baroque paintings--- the dusk of one unforgettable evening—where Arlekino is deep in thought and crying.   The performer is not wearing a hat tonight.  He outran his hats for once.  

     They are all on a display and for grabs, for sale. He is ready to dispose, ready to get rid of them all. He wants to be himself and not go on like this, melding into the sentiment of the moment of somebody else’s subtle expectations, delivering results that lack sincerity or a true purpose.  The maze of days of met sunrises and sunsets that loose their distinctiveness after while.  The days that make you question the real meaning of it all and where you fit in a grander scheme of a life’s greatest puzzle.  The blistering mosaic of intertwining threads and tied hard knots that you are trying to untangle to finally decipher that prophesy.  The saying once whispered into your ear as a child by a passing old woman as a token of kindness on your part. It never made sense, but maybe now.  Maybe there is a different route he can undertake and start again but only with no silken hats of varying and of blinding color.  The poison of silkworms hidden in cocoons has finally reached its target. The texture of silk fabric is now creating just a headache- no real satisfaction.  And there is this longing for a refreshing wave of something else-free from the unnecessary cluster of molecules, free from the misconceived notions of life, free from the notorieties of expectations, gestures, smiles.  
    
     The crowds may love Arlekino for his charisma, for his upbeat attitude and a perception of his mind and advice.  But it is all just a surface.  The depth of a comedian’s soul is hidden well behind-- the true smile, the true tears—someone is yet to witness, someone is yet to bring out and more importantly sustain beyond the meagerness of moment. For now, it has been just an act believable in nature even to an actor himself.  But Arlekino has gotten tired and longs for answers. Arlekino is crying by himself tonight.

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