The souls decides to speak

I am the soul

<<That’s me, the soul. I didn’t really have the faculty to speak, sealed inside this clumsy actor’s corpse. I am what I simply am, a soul.

I don’t commit sin or smile to anyone, I don’t turn on an engine or press a piano pedal. I’m the soul and above all an actor’s soul. Today everyone revere his inspiration and his force; you must see yourself, you all.

So occupied on trying to seem contrite, but you all thinking only about my essence. Yes, I’m an original soul and that’s the reason why I chose an artist. Other original souls sometimes got trapped inside soft bodies of bureaucrats, business managers, or even the top f the system, the Governors.

The latter in particular know so much about life that they can decide about your lives as well. They have a primitive simple idea about each one of you, divided between who’s useful or to the cause or otherwise, enemies or accomplices.

Happened to everyone waking up one day with the odd feeling of being the enemy, or worse accomplice of what you considered enemy the day before. Therefore we’re always ready to close one or perhaps even two eyes just to be part of a group.

To feel over our naked skin the sensation of being mixed with something greater. A classic example is the mix of coffee and milk. The coffee, a plant with the only dream of growing up tanning under the sun and the milk which wants to be a drink for two trembling lips just arrived in the world.

Consequently, an artist’s soul could be a weapon to convince and succeed. An actor discourse is capable of let you cry, laugh, think and forget completely your world. Oh yes, it’s capable as well of dropping on your panting forehead as a torture drop.

I am the soul.

The soul's speech_souls alive_First chapter_by Daniele Frau_Illustrations by Gabriele Manca.
The soul’s speech_Souls alive

I couldn’t express myself before, if not giving spirit to this giant of thousands of qualities I fell in love with. Yes, don’t be surprised, a soul can feel love.

I’m not a mere colored pencil you use just to print your thoughts with. I’m the inside, I’m the fabric and what is under your hat. I react as a chemical or as people pouring out in the street in search of food, shouting:


As roots searching for water. Goodbye, I will finally be a whole with the body I always loved. Although one day he will be eaten by flies, he will let you laugh again and again blowing with its proboscis and vibrating in the air. Adieu!>>

If you’re curious about what is going to happen next, if the soul will be safe or if someone will take care of it, read how the story continues next week with The value of a soul.

If you read this post, but you didn’t read the previous part, A humble pair of shoes, please do so. And tell us what do you think about it. Your feedback is always really important.

If you landed on this page, but you don’t have any clue of what this is all about, please read what is this story about. And remember that this is a bilingual project, so you can read it in English and Italian.

This story has been published once per week from October 2018 to October 2019, with all rights reserved for the story and its translations by Flyingstories and in the person of Daniele Frau.

All the graphics are handmade and designed with different techniques by Gabriele Manca, DMQ productions, who reserves all rights.

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