threads (a spoken monologue)

An exploration of a mysterious, unbreakable connection that transcends boundaries. In searching for meaning, one soul feels the pull of another—a force that’s both comforting and perplexing, moving through shadows and light, beyond time and space. This piece invites you to reflect on the connections that shape us, whether to another person, a deeper self, or something greater.

Inspired by a sleepless night staring at the shadows on the ceiling. The initial thought was this:

What is this thing? When wires and threads are binding her to him? When her shadow is caressed by an angel’s soul? She sees him with her eyes closed everytime she drowns in light. Unknown. Unbound. No time, no space. What is this thing? Is she a puppet of the stars? Is she the end of every story? He grows under her skin, an ember whenever she is freezing cold.

And from there it turned into this:

What is this thing? This… force, these wires and threads, binding me to him. No, not binding—more like weaving, like threads that aren’t even there but somehow pull, unseen, all the same. And there I am, caught in them, feeling every tug, every whisper.

His shadow… it’s there, even when I close my eyes. I feel it, gentle, like the touch of an angel. Sometimes, it feels like he’s cradling my own shadow in his hands, like he knows parts of me I don’t even know myself.

And when I… when I drown in light, in that brightness that blinds, I see him. I see him with my eyes closed, as clear as the sun but… untouchable. Unknown. Unbound. No time, no place, just him… there. Always.

What is this thing? Is it fate? Or am I… some puppet of the stars, some story they’re writing with threads I’ll never understand? I wonder if… if I’m meant to be the end of his story. Or maybe he’s the end of mine. I can’t even tell if we’re moving closer or farther away.

He’s… there, you know? Not in some obvious way, but under my skin. Like an ember. Whenever the world goes cold, there he is, burning, reminding me he exists. Warming the places I can’t reach on my own.

So tell me… what is this thing? Because it’s not letting go, and… maybe, neither am I.

###

With the help of Weather Systems and Daniel Cavanagh, my vision for this piece was captured beautifully. The dreamlike music, ethereal, universal lifts my words high above my usual standards.

Give it a listen. Threads. Weather Systems and Catherine Tricarico

If you like it, share it with your friends and everyone you know 🙂 And don’t forget to be kind to the creators. A few nice words or a comment are always very appreciated.

Have a great weekend

share a thought

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.