Play. Letters to the Wind. Various scenes.

Thought Overture

Voices, lights and sentences are heard in the dark. Slow and steady at first then they flash climax.

Voice #1

Cenote coffee shop. East Austin, too hip, too trendy. Front entrance facing. I see everyone.

Voice #2

I have no other goal than to connect I with you.

Voice #3

From high elation to daily manic states, treatment based on moods.

Voice#4

I can deal with almost any sort of baggage, handicap or moral dilemma in a relationship. wait, yeah, keyword...almost.

Voice #1

This woman walks in, striking resemblance to you. Same hair cut, wide chin and eyes.

Voice #2

In your most honest moment to me, you slipped a note, a poem, into my coat pocket.

Voice #3

Its late now, I haven't been sleeping well.

Voice#4

Tinder, what a cruel joke, fucking evil invention we have unleashed upon ourselves.

Voice #1

This same woman has a child, a girl, Natalia's age. Will I ever meet her? Will I get to be a parental force to someone?

Voice #2

You make a claim, I call and or text back to sooth your suspicions, which you never call me back. Momentary happiness, constant madness.

Voice #3

You will never be happy and will always manipulate whomever you are intimate with.

Voice#4

Ok, I will do my best to stay off your FB pages, your friends pages as well. Its none of my business!

Voice #1

She reminds me of you, she leaves. The door opens again, sound of wood floors creak and pop in this cafe.

Voice #2

Sometimes I wish you could give me a little more then a one or two word response after I write these letters to you.

Voice #3

You burn each person in the long run, you are a shell of a human, feeding and sucking off the fumes of peoples hopes and energy.

Voice#4

So I've deleted and reactivated my tinder account four times since we've started. Is that bad? Don't judge...

Voice #1

The sound of wood cracking...

Voice #2

Im a man, broken and wise...

Voice #3

Tear down this wall of pain you have created and refuse to let anyone in...

Voice#4

Maybe we could just text each other?

Voice #1

Purify our hearts...

Voice #2

Keep you safe...

Voice #3

Miss your warmth...

Voice#4

Your touch...

Voice #1

Wood creaks, footsteps, I look up. Hoping it may be you.

Voices duplicate, run and end. Lights out. In black we here the song "Recuerdos de Alhambra.

CHIVALRY

KIKO

Hello there. I pray your week finished well with good sleep and sans the bug bites. Although the moscos of Austin got to you tonight, thwarting our rendezvous, I admit was a bit sad that we did not get to meet up. I remember our first meeting. Takoba bar, East Austin trendy spot. It was Monday, March 31st, late. It wasnt a long date as you had just finished rehearsal and had work the very next morning. In fact I thought u werent coming as I sat there  sipping on tequila. Denied yet again I thought. But you walked in. The bartender asked in your vulnerable moment of awkwardness, "who are you looking for?" You made sure the back of my head matched my digital face, you smiled, "Him, I'm here to see him." Anxiety left your brow as you sat down and the rest is our current history. What stuck with you, and I assume to this day as to why we still converse, is you loved the fact I walked you to your car. A simple asct really. It was late and dark, why wouldn't you walk a woman to her car? But there was no thought or motive behind it, like breathing. It was the natural and right thing to do. That for me and how I define the fuzzy world of Men and Women, sex and gender, the scary masculine and elusive feminine, is chivalry. A lost artform nowadays. Why is that? We are in a selfish age where our men have turned their backs on the better parts of our collective anicent traditions. I believe writing to you is a big chivalrous act. I write to you out of the highest purpose. As you gain insight and knowledge into who I am as a person, thus becoming better friends,you will  open yorself up to me. Making yourself vulnerable to a person as you have never done before. A nobel cause, a single aim, an ancient dance. Now I realize I have had my moments of not being a gentlemen. Usually its a by product of insecurity and always motivated by my selfishness. Which can grip the best of us. But I know I have a chivalrious heart,deep and kind. So how can men retain this ideal? Well I love the word "practice." Men love that word, it means sport and teamwork and all those other manly and slightly homophobic ideals. But its easy for us to process by this Cro-Magnon method. If you practice your ass off you tend to get good results, you feel better about yourself. Caveman logic. So I would say to any man who wants to elevate thier logic, manners and method; practice, practice, practice. Everyday do something completely nice for someone. Soon that practice will become like breathing. It has worked for me and still does lately in fact. So now I look for those moments, I ache to be chivalrous. Open that door not just for one but many, stand and greet someone when they enter and leave a room. Listen with compassion and understand that we are all trying our best everyday. Its a great time to be alive. Susana, with so much suffering out there, I want to be a light to many men, slowly but surely turn their hearts to warmth. We train, meditate and talk about our code, the Budo way. We talk on how we can extend this "way," out in the world. it's a wonderful time to be alive. Now, a true gentleman knows when to respect the wishes fo another. A challenge as we want to project our ideas of happiness and love on another wihtout clue as to who they really are. This is no the act of a gentleman, but a of scoundrel. Taking a knee, bowing out, waiting for others to pick themselves up or ask for help is at times more chivalrious than we could ever imagine. these are signs of a happy pure heart.

Sound effect. we hear the waves gently crashing and spilling over sand, a beach.

KIKO

Because my heart is so sappy, my dreams tend to get away from me. I see one day to be a gentle Father, kind and strong. In a dream, I am standing in front of the Pacific Ocean. The sky is amazing. Off shore breezes chill the bones of my cheeks. Constant waves gently crash, spill and spread, reaching my stretched out toes. My opened eyes have watered up. My left arm aches, bent in position. A pain I gladly endure. In my muscles a child, hugging me, half asleep,half enlighten. We are in silowette. My heart, ready to explode. Like I said, my dreams tend to get away from me. I am a gentleman. I will always be at your call.

Black.