If four now-dead people (say,
Kahlil Gibran,
Frida Kahlo,
Karen Carpenter, and
Sylvia Plath) were to have a
conversation, what would they say? After some thought, here is what would most logically
pass between them:
(Sylvia) All he wants is a nice dinner. But I never have time to cook for him. The oven is always cold. So much is expected of me!
(Karen) That's okay, I'm not hungry anyways.
(Kahlil) Would that you could live on the fragrance of the earth, and like an air plant be sustained by the light. But since you must kill to eat, and rob the newly born of its mother's milk to quench your thirst, let it then be an act of worship.
(Frida) But I will never have children, no babies to hold. All I have is pain.
(Sylvia) Try having your husband leave you for another woman. That's the deepest pain one can ever feel, like bullets burrowing farther and farther into one's brain until the will to live is destroyed.
(Frida) Diego did leave me, ten times over and over again as I lay in the hospital, unable to move.
(Karen) My husband and I separated as well. It really is quite painful.
(Kahlil) Much of your pain is self-chosen. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
(silence)
(Frida) I don't know about that. But I want to make something out of my life. Diego and I will get back together some day.
(Karen) And I still have my voice.
(Sylvia) Speak for yourselves; my life is doomed to be lived in loneliness, if it is lived at all.
(Kahlil) If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.