On a knife-edge

A Monologue by Jean-Pierre Martinez

You’re going to laugh, but I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing here… And you? No, I mean, do you know what I’m supposed to be doing? What I’m supposed to say? If you do, feel free to let me know, alright? I’m completely in the dark. I’m standing here like a computer abruptly unplugged, only to be replaced by a vacuum cleaner. Or maybe it’s a sudden power outage. A blackout. I should have created a backup. But who could have predicted they’d disconnect my power? Maybe I forgot to pay the bill… I’m not talking about a momentary lapse of memory, okay? In that case, I’d improvise. Keep going until it comes back to me. Until I find the thread again. Or I’d ask the prompter, right? Oh, there’s no prompter anymore, that’s true… There’s no script either, and no author. Staff downsizing. You’ll see that soon, they’ll also remove the safety nets for tightrope walkers, and the words to say. When they remove the nets for fishermen, and the webs for spiders, then we really need to worry… They’re leading us up the garden path, and we’re the ones still hacking through the underbrush. Tightrope walkers with bats in the belfry… Aren’t we all a bit like that, in some way? As long as we maintain our balance and walk confidently on the tightrope, everything seems fine. However, once we lose our way… When words escape us, we might blurt out anything. We might utter things we shouldn’t. And later on, all we can offer is an apologetic, “Excuse me, it slipped out.” It’s far from what I intended to express; in fact, it’s precisely what I had hoped to keep silent about. The thought struck me, and the words spilled out involuntarily. After all, one feels compelled to say something, doesn’t one? The need to break the silence takes over. Silence is more unbearable than anything, you see. Especially when people have made the effort to come hear you speak, and they’ve purchased their tickets. When I mention silence, I’m not limiting it to mere verbal communication, you know? A mime can be more eloquent than anyone. And I’m not sure if you’ve ever ridden the bus with a group of deaf-mutes, but the hustle and bustle are quite a sight. No, being present without uttering a word is far more challenging than engaging in meaningless chatter, trust me. However, engaging in idle talk, well, that carries its own weight. A lapse of memory is akin to a slide. Like a black hole. We know we’ll eventually land on our backsides, but we’re uncertain about the destination. The only certainty is that once we initiate the slide, there’s no turning back. Therefore, feeling a bit uneasy before taking the plunge is only natural, isn’t it? Why am I sharing all this? Where is this leading? You’re not saying anything, are you? You’re not helping me much… But then, I’m used to it. I just came from my psychoanalyst’s office. He never says anything either. You’d say it saves him from taking crap. Strangely, all the therapists who said something to me seemed more disturbed than I am. Still. Him, I’ve never heard the sound of his voice. In ten years. So I just told him that we’d better leave it at that, actually. No, it really cost me too much to try every week to find something to say to him. Especially with the switch to the euro… Hence, when it went to twice a week… I won’t even go there. Moreover, I don’t really need to lie down anymore, now that I’m here, right? Here, I’m a bit like on the couch. With several rows of therapists listening to me in silence. And at least here, it’s you who shells out the bills at each session…


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A sketch from the collection Like a fish in the air
Link to the collection for free download (PDF)

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https://jeanpierremartinez.net

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