The start.//The end.//Slumber.//I know the torment of separation, my spirit severed and scattered in the wind.//Hands... Look at//the hands...//
I feel the harsh emptiness of my ruptured heart and have no idea how to ever begin its mending.//Wandering this lucid dreamscape//
where you and I are like before//without the space of stars between us//and the atomic structure of our bond is not replaced ...//displaced ...//substituted ...// I know the rift burned bridges build and the lasting wounds of dagger stares.//eyes
//open//your eyes//
and recognize that all the tears cried for defeated love still fail to thaw a frozen heart. Now that there‘s nothing was there anything ever really there?// Was it just an illusion, a game played by my brain?//The collapse of perfection, a fairy tale reversed?//If I love you with all my being, should you not love me in return? Edd Schouten

Is deep romantic love merely an illusion? A cloud castle? A media-fuelled pipe dream that is doomed to failure in real life? Jiří Bubeníček’s Burning Bridges explores the question of what sustains a love relationship when the magic of initial infatuation has disappeared. When two people face the challenge of building up a genuine and deep bond – in the face of all their experiences, fears, hopes and failings ...

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