First person plural
“Eccentric (scandalous), the dream furnishes the contrary image. In the dual form I fantasize, I want there to be a point without an elsewhere, I sigh (not a very modern action) for a centered structure, balanced by the consistency of the Same: if everything is not in two, what’s the use of struggling? I might as well return to the pursuit of the multiple. As for this everything I desire, it suffices for its fulfillment (the dream insists) that each of us be without sites: that we be able magically to substitute for each other: that the kingdom of “one for the other” come (“In going together, each will think for the other”), as if we were the vocables of a new, strange language, in which it would be quite licit to use one word for another. This union would be without limits, not by the scope of its expansion, but by the indifference of its permutations.”
Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments, trans. Richard Howard (New York: Hill and Wang, 1978), pp. 227–228.
Using stethoscopes, we listen to each other’s heartbeats and gradually synchronize them into a single rhythm. Once this is achieved, the performance stops.