Here is the story of the album Duality. You can find the full lyrics to all of the songs here.
Duality
Johan Steensland
Eddie
Aspiring fiction-writer Eddie Areola was isolated in his father’s cabin deep into the woods. It
was here, in the vast rural area called Upper Kemp, that he could be truly creative. At only
twenty-nine, Eddie was known to his few friends as “Mr. Serious”.
He always went all in.
For the fifth time in as many years, Eddie was enjoying the rustic cabin and its surrounding
quiet woods while working on a new novel. He was doing his research. Again.
But this time was different. Eddie knew this was true, because this time, it was not only about
the growing story. His dad had said yes (again) to him using the cabin but had also sighed
(again) and said: “Last time, son”.
Eddie guessed there was a limit to how supportive a parent should be.
But it was also about the story. This time, Eddie had found a subject, a theme, that
developed into a story that immersed him more than anything he had ever put his mind to.
Mr. Serious was more serious than ever.
Alone, far from anything and anyone, Eddie studied the minds of psychopaths and killers.
On his long walks in the woods, Eddie developed the embryo of the story into a more solid
foundation. Themes, symbols, pacing, settings, characters. It all came together like he was a
magical magnet, and all those things were beautiful pieces of metal that just came to him by
some law of attraction.
All this groundwork had to be done, and done seriously. In just a few weeks, Eddie had a
series of scheduled interviews with interns at the Nivek State Prison. His subjects were
exactly what he was researching: psychopaths, killers. He wanted to learn as much as
possible. The book demanded it.
Three months later, back in the cabin, Eddie knew he was onto something great. He also
knew he was frantic, feverish, obsessed.
It was December when Eddie finally had sent his first draft of his novel to a publisher.
Outside the cabin, the snow was two feet deep, and Eddie’s walks were reduced to a number
of laps on a small path around the house where he had shoveled the snow away. Eddie was
closing the cabin for the season, cleaning and packing, when the call came.
The publisher wanted to buy his script, and wanted to meet with him straight away to discuss
the details of the contract.
So instead of going home, Eddie drove some 200 miles on icy, wintery roads to meet with his
new publisher.
Downtown in the big city, Eddie buys his first suit ever for money he doesn’t really have. He
uses the store’s bathroom to change into his new suit, eager to look representative to his
publisher. Exhausted, on autopilot now, Eddie throws his old clothes into the trash. They had
done their job, but now it was time to step into a new world, a new character. He must make
a good first impression.
Excited, lost in his thoughts, tired, hungry and cold, Eddie is unaware he dropped his wallet
into the trash along with his old clothes. He heads across the street to the publisher’s office.
He’s thinking about the contract, about the story, about psychopaths and killers when he slips
on the wintery surface and gets hit head-on by a speeding car.
Five days later, Eddie wakes up in the Locrian Memorial Hospital. There are broken bones.
There is pain. Even his head is covered in bandages. But what’s worse is that he can’t
remember anything. Not even his own name.
The only thing Eddie really knows is the mind of psychopaths and killers.
Lydia
Neglected by her single Mom, who devoted more time to smoking and drinking than to
raising her daughter, Lydia Gilbert learned as a child to become invisible. She wanted to
avoid her mother’s slurred speech, sour breath and vacant eyes, her yelling and her erratic
demands. Lydia also learned to stay out of sight from the random men that now and then
accompanied her mother. These men always seemed to be foul-mouthed and short
tempered. And should any of them catch a glimpse of Lydia, they reacted in a set number of
predictable ways – none of them good.
At school Lydia pretended not to notice the smirks and the mean comments from the other
kids. Her teachers and the school counselor had questions. However, Lydia learned that if
you avoided these questions long enough, the grown-ups would eventually forget their
questions. Often, she just wanted to disappear – or at least stay below the radar.
Bit by bit, day by day, Lydia’s self-esteem diminished. She sometimes felt that her very
existence was being erased. What really hurt was the insight that she was doing the erasing.
Desperately needing an escape, a lifeline, or a portal to another world where things were
beautiful, fair, and exciting, she found exactly that in her own home. It was in her room, right
in front of her – just above her small desk. She found her portal in her mirror.
Lydia understood that the girl in the mirror was not really her. Her mirror image was more like
a happy and witty best friend. But this friend was beautiful, mesmerizing, bashful, could even
be playfully adult and sexy. That was not her. Because Lydia spent her days trying to be
invisible.
But as the years went by, Lydia came to use her mirror image as a gateway to her fantasy,
her imaginary life. She really had nothing else. She had no real friends, and she failed in
school. And even if the invisible girl-act kept her out of a certain kind of trouble, it also
diminished her. So, Lydia turned more often to her mirror, her secret fantasy.
Movies, books, and even what she could pick up from real life, told her that beautiful people
always had an advantage. Their charm and their looks took them further. And the most
beautiful women, they always got exactly what they wanted. That was the way the world
worked.
In her late teens, Lydia realized she needed to become her alter ego, her beautiful and
confident mirror image. Even if the young woman in the mirror was not really her, she
reasoned, there must be enough of her in there, enough to get the transformation started.
The power to change her misery into something wonderful was right in front of her. She just
needed to embrace it.
And really, what else was there?
Because of Lydia’s lack of confidence, social skills and even education, her attempts at an
alter ego proved to be a series of catastrophic failures. The more time and money she spent
on her appearance, the harder she tried to be witty, fun and confident, the more severe her
failures became. It didn’t get her any new friends. She attracted the wrong kind of men. She
was used, taken advantage of, even beaten and abused.
The good life she sought never materialized. Instead, the will to create a better life was
beaten out of her.
Lydia was still a young woman, but already as broken as her mother – although in a different
way.
On her twenty-seventh birthday, in a desperate move, Lydia gathered her last savings (and
last courage), packed her bag, hugged her sleeping mother, and walked to the Greyhound
bus terminal. She spent almost all her money on a ticket that would take her as far away as
possible. She embarked on the bus and fell asleep.
Almost twenty-four hours later, at her destination, Lydia was cold, hungry, tired and broke.
Lost in a big city she knew nothing about, she had no one and nothing. She knew that from
now on she had to do everything differently, should she have even the smallest chance to
turn her life around.
Forced to change her ways, Lydia did what she had never done before.
She asked for help.
Lydia was thirty-three, loving her new life as a full-time nurse at the Locrian Memorial
Hospital, when a victim of a traffic accident woke up on her shift. The young man suffered
from amnesia – didn’t even know his own name.
Act 1: Confusion
From the creative spur in the cabin in Upper Kemp, to the danger of being blinded by hunger
for recognition and money, Eddie is thrown from one world into another. Lydia, calm, settled,
and collected in her new position as head nurse in the Ionian amnesia department, is caught
up in sudden and undesired drama. Who is this man? Will he wake up? What’s he like? Even
unconscious, the young man seems to carry a strong and mysterious aura.
- Fragments
Through his unconsciousness, Eddie is fed with a flood of uncharted stimuli: sounds, smells,
pressure, light. His sedated brain tries to make sense of it. It’s like an abstract puzzle where
none of the pieces seem to fit.
Eddie does not wake up in his hospital bed like they do in the movies: sharply, with a gasp of
air. Rather, it’s like a slow and cumbersome climb of a long stair, where each step hurts.
Somewhere in the grey area between dreaming, unconsciousness and being semi-awake,
Eddie sees a blurred hospital room where the weirdest scene unravels before his eyes:
Some short people are trying to move a large white refrigerator through the door into his
room. But no matter how they try to lift or push, the fridge is too big to get through the door.
Suddenly though, the large appliance takes a life of its own. It’s like it’s been fed up with the
futile attempts to help it through the door.
The fridge just rolls through the door (yes, it has wheels now). And as it rolls through the
room toward his bed, Eddie is alarmed by its sheer size. The fridge is rolling closer and
closer, growing and growing. Before blacking out, Eddie’s last thought is that the enormous
thing is going to tip over and crush him like a bug.
Little does Eddie know that what he saw was a white-dressed nurse walking into his room to
check on him. It will be weeks before he gets to know this two-hundred-and-fifty-pound, six-
foot-five male nurse. And when he and Lydia jokingly refer to this nurse as The Fridge, he
has no idea where that came from.
Days pass.
When Eddie finally regains consciousness, it is with one persistent realization: The nurses
and the doctors are going to hate me for what I am.
- They believe that I’m kind – Song lyrics
Through her childhood, Lydia has some experience with bad men. It was the only kind her
mother seemed to attract. More often than not, her mother brought them home. Lydia never
forgot their manners (or lack thereof), their sloppy come-ons disguised as light humor, their
capacity for violence, hiding just below the surface. Most of all, she remembered their eyes –
there was something unnerving about their eyes.
Their new patient in the Ionian amnesia department intrigues her. He exhibits all traits of a
good man, and none of a bad one. Lydia would know. Yet, this young man is convinced, and
clearly ashamed, of his own bottomless darkness and lack of a decent soul. This conviction
torments him.
Lydia tries to tell her confused patient what is apparent to her: only good men can’t stand the
thought of being bad.
- Only good men – Song lyrics
The hospital staff has been nice enough to hang his shredded suit on a hanger in the semi-
open wardrobe. It’s a beautiful “We care about you”-gesture. Eddie hates the suit but doesn’t
have the stomach to tell them. They may think he’s ungrateful and therefore despise him
even more.
What’s worse, Eddie has no recollection of owning or wearing the damned thing. To him, the
suit serves as uncontested proof of the dark person he is.
The vivid nightmares riding Eddie’s fragmented mind are successively ramping up. Each
night, it’s a little bit worse. In his dreams, the shredded suit takes a life of its own – it
becomes his evil alter ego: a ghost floating through the room, hovering above his sweating
and shivering body, ready to strike.
- The shredded suit – Song lyrics
Little by little, Eddie and Lydia get to know each other. Lydia, fascinated by Eddie’s apparent
duality, is for some reason struggling to stay professional when they talk. Friendly and
helpful? Yes! A bit personal? Sure! But never private, never flirty, never beyond what could
be asked of her as the head nurse. She keeps reminding herself of that.
Lydia realizes there is so much they are not telling each other. But is it only her
professionalism that prevents her from telling him more about her past? Why is it so
important to her to uphold this persona of stability? Why not the damned truth?
She does feel a bit guilty about the spotting scope, though. The old thing has been collecting
dust on its wooden tripod behind other random stuff on the Lorian’s cellar floor for as long as
she could remember. Nobody seemed to know where it came from. But there was nothing
wrong with it, so she carried it up to the new patient’s room and placed it in front of one of the
large windows. Perhaps seeing things more clearly in the spotting scope will make him see
things more clearly in general.
Hopefully it will help his memory.
Or something.
Eddie can’t deny he likes Lydia’s company. When she’s not with him, time passes slowly. She
calms his erratic thoughts, has become his voice of sense, his pillar of sanity. Still, he will
never admit to her that he appreciates her a lot more than he pretends.
If he only could remember his own damned name! Sick of being in this confused state, Eddie
is in agony over the person he is – or used to be. Is he a killer? A psychopath? Or just plain
bad?
He desperately wants to remember something – anything – about his past. At the same time,
Eddie is afraid of what these memories will do to him. Better to be unknowing.
Yes, like he could choose …
- A perfect lie – Song lyrics
Eddies thoughts are racing. Maybe it’s the medicine. Or maybe he’s on his way to losing the
battle he is fighting with his fragmented mind. Every time he forces his feverish mind to slow
down, to make sense of things, to grab solutions, any solution, he sees only futile paths
forward drawn up by a pathetic mind.
Eddie finds himself staring at the yellow balloon, tied with a string to his bed. He recalls there
was a bunch of them when he regained consciousness. He assumed it was standard
procedure at the Locrian when a patient woke up, a touching but somewhat childish
“Welcome back to the world!”.
Now, only the yellow balloon remains; a gas-filled sphere, roughly the size of a human head.
The symbolism is not lost on him.
Clearly, the solution is to letting go of his dark past, and becoming something, someone, that
could function in a normal society. There it was! What if he were an ordinary man? Wouldn’t
that solve everything?
He could envision it: Being this super-ordinary man, doing all the super-ordinary things as
dictated by the norms of suburban and contemporary America: working in an office or a
factory, lighting up the grill with your neighbors on Saturday afternoons, working in the
garden on Sundays. Sure, he can be an ordinary man.
Yet, even if he can imagine this ordinary man, deep down Eddie knows he can never be that.
Eddie knows he is bad. There’s nothing normal about him. His thoughts are racing again.
- An ordinary man – Song lyrics
Because of the limited resources available to him at the Locrian, Eddie has a lot of time to
think.
How come he is where he is? What are the exact events in his life that led him to this
hospital bed where anguish, anxiety and pain occupy the space where his memory is
supposed to be?
Is he a mere puppet in some cruel masterplan? Designed by whom?
Eddie is not a religious man – he is sure of it. Psychopaths seldom are. But even in his
confused state, Eddie is also sure he wants to better himself.
Perhaps there is a lesson to be learned from all of this. Perhaps this – the accident, the
amnesia, meeting Lydia – perhaps this is his big break, his chance to build something sane
and healthy.
A chance, then. But again: designed by whom?
Is there a God? Is this part of His masterplan?
Eddie cannot wrap his head around it, no matter how much time he has at his disposal in his
lonely hospital room. If there is a God, why has He created this psychopath-self in the first
place?
These thoughts open something inside him – creating a sudden flood of thoughts. Eddie
envisions the flood washing away the pain. But instead, the flood running through him
threatens to drown him.
Despite what she thinks of as her bottomless patience, Lydia sometimes finds herself unable
to stay professional. This man – this amnesia-ridden enigma of a man – not only entices her.
He also frustrates her; can even make her angry.
The guilt-trip is sometimes more than Lydia can handle. Even though it shouldn’t, the storm
raging in the new patient’s teacup gets to her. She wants to scream at him: Get a grip, man!
The world is so much larger than your tiny head!
Yet she doesn’t – Lydia keeps most of it to herself. The urge to stay professional is too
strong. And, of course, there is that other thing. That thing that makes her finding herself in
her new patient’s room a little too often. Talking a little too much. Smiling a little too wide.
- Let me in! – Song lyrics
Act 2: Attraction
Eddie doesn’t know, but while dreaming, he sleepwalks. Those sleepwalking dreams are
vivid and clear, yet full of contradictions. The dreams are so disturbing that he considers
asking the good Dr Dorian for sleeping pills that would put him under so deep that dreaming
could never occur.
In his dream, Eddie is leaving. He walks right out of the Locrian Memorial without even
looking back. No hesitation – not a care in the world. He walks in a straight line.
Yet, something is holding Eddie back. It’s like there is a thick invisible rubber band tied to the
bed and around his waist. And there’s shrill voice screaming at him: Wrong way! Wrong way!
- Walking in a straight line – Song lyrics
Lydia knows she has said too much, showed too much. This sweet man, her nameless
patient, is clearly holding back. She feels as though he is trying to block her, that he is hell
bent on keeping her out of the puzzle he is trying to piece together. There is fear in his eyes,
but there is also something else: Warmth? Empathy? Hope?
Clearly, there’s much more in her new patient than what he shows.
What frustrates Lydia the most is that protective guard of his: his persistent thought that he is
bad, and therefore not worthy of any meaningful relations. It’s emotionally draining. The
prospect of breaking through his layers of protection is exciting, but somehow off-limits. Her
goal as a nurse is simple, yet so full of contradictions.
When Eddie thinks of Lydia, he is often overwhelmed by the warmth and the tingling
spreading through his entire body. He envisions her now: undestroyed, unbroken, empathic
and with that purposeful presence that makes her glow.
Eddie will never risk taking any of that away from her.
- Black sea – Song lyrics
It has happened. And still is. Eddie feels like a twelve-year-old sneaking out at night to a
secret meeting with his friends. Yet, this is better, more exciting. But wrong, he reminds
himself.
The watchful eye of Dr Dorian on the nightshift is just part of their worries. Eddie’s black sea
is another part. She doesn’t have to remind him, but Lydia’s career is also on the line. Still,
there’s no going back.
They develop this routine, these stealthy steps, this ridiculous nightly dance around Dr
Dorian.
- The Dr Dorian Dance – Song lyrics
Lying on his bed, Eddie is careful to avoid staring straight up at the old ceiling high above
him. He knows too well where that leads. Nowhere, that’s where! Now, his eyes are drawn to
the tubes connecting some of the medical gear. Even though he finds a certain clinical
beauty in them, he is still bored. Eddie is tired of waiting. How long is he going to stay here at
the Locrian? How long does he have to wait? Apart from regaining his memory, what is it
exactly he is waiting for? He wishes he and Lydia could just escape and have a normal life
together.
Eddie knows it would take a miracle. Still, if – by some magic – that miracle would occur,
would that be an altogether good thing? Would it make them live happily ever after? And
would that require him to assume the role of that Ordinary man he could not identify with?
But who can say no to be part of a miracle?
Lydia is consumed by her thoughts about having a sense of control through drastic changes:
having it, or not having it. For her own change, Lydia feels that she has owned every bit of
the process that took her from a young victim of a dysfunctional home to someone who other
people counted on for healing, advice and care. She made sure to never forget the adversity
she faced and remained determined. She was worthy of a better life. And now she had it.
Her new patient had changed before her eyes. Bit by bit, he let go of the guilt-trip he was
clinging to when he woke up. Other sides of him emerged, positive and healthy ones. Lydia
has been by her patient’s side all the way through his healing. So, Lydia feels involved and
that she has contributed to his process. Of course, she did not own it (like she had owned
her own process). Still, there was a bit of control there. She did her job. The patient got
better. Hence, a process she partly controlled.
But before the most drastic change, Lydia felt powerless. Never had she imagined falling in
love with a patient. No control there, no Ma’am.
- What would you give? – Song lyrics
Even though Eddie and Lydia both understand it, it is hard for them to accept that what they
have started has to end – at least for a while. Because what they are doing is not
responsible, not right. However, they also believe that their crazy nightly dance will eventually
translate into something beautiful and right, although this must happen some other time,
some other place.
The challenge is overwhelming. Here and now – that is what provokes them, teases them,
tempts them. Because exactly when is some other time? And exactly where is some other
place?
How can a person possibly be responsible and accountable in a situation like that?
- Here and now – Song lyrics
The end