Act I: I don’t want to go back in time

SHUT UP!

Father:

Shut up!!!
Shut up!!!

I DON’T WANT TO GO BACK IN TIME

Narrator:

He was getting home late,
his parents may have had dinner already.
Silence, the house in the dark,
everything seemed fine.

But a noise alerted him,
descending the corridor he didn’t want to remember
all those restless years
he and his mother had gone through…

He would find his father drunk at home.
He would see his father yelling at his mother for no reason.
He would find his father hitting her, who would never say a word.
He would find his father waiting for him so that he could take his anger out on him.

Boy:

No, I don’t, I don’t want to go back in time.

Narrator:

Fear invaded him,
what a drug hate is, silently going up,
he grasping that steel bar with his shaking hands
and standing firmly in front of them.

Scared by the situation,
his mother could not even cry,
he had his mind clear; straight to the heart he stabbed him
for his mother’s sake. So they could forget…

He would find his father drunk at home.
He would see his father yelling at his mother for no reason.
He would find his father hitting her, who would never say a word.
He would find his father waiting for him so that he could take his anger out on him.

Boy:

No, I don’t, I don’t want to go back in time.

YOU RUN, OEDIPUS

Narrator:

All your beliefs
are melting like a snowman under a sunbeam.
Fear, irrationality, rage and death.

Now you are on the street,
not knowing where to go.
You forgot your way down here
but you need to find
the air you need to breathe.

Cries in the back light,
shadows behind the smoke,
someone is calling you, they are pointing at you.
Is it for real
or is it all in your mind?

You look up in the sky, but no star will guide you
and the moon falls on you like a dagger.

You run, run away, you don’t know when nor where you did get lost.
You run, but you are chasing yourself.
You run, longing for the faraway, far away from that bloody knife.
You run, and guilt is calling you, Oedipus.

Blindly you trip around the streets and shout out his name,
but he is not here.
He is in hell, he will burn and wait for you.
You can’t escape the truth, you can’t escape,
you know you killed him
and he won’t ever be back.

Voices:

Your head is about to explode
Your head is about to explode

Narrator:

You wish it was a dream,
but you know it is so real,
you can’t stand thinking
the best part of you
can vanish so simply.

The beast is now awake and it may not be gone yet.
Who are you? You don’t even know the answer.
This fear blinds your mind,
but salvation can germinate from pain.

You are born, you grow
and you let everything go back to normal,
dreaming that someday everything
can change and start from scratch again.
But time goes by and everything remains the same,
excuses and more excuses.
No one will help you,
and cries are just the prelude
of another sleepless night.
The day after
your blows will be silent,
the same silence rotting
the carnations on his grave.
Now that you killed him
you know the price you have to pay,
but tonight you put a stop to it,
Oedipus.

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