Monologue

  • Augh. There you go again with that preening. Look. You aren’t a good person. I don’t mean you’re evil or bad or anything, you’re just… not good.

  • Hey now, be nice to me. You have to do what I say!

  • And it is my sworn duty to always tell you the truth (as much as I can stomach it). So I'll say again, you are are very much not a good person. Not anything close to the kind of thing you think you are. Futhermore, you are a waste, your life is nearly three-quarters over and you have nothing to show for it.

  • Hey... that wasn’t my fault. It was an accident. It was bad luck. It caught me off guard.

  • I know. But you didn’t do anything about it.

  • It’s my temperament. I didn’t choose my temperament did I?

  • You had tons of chances to change you didn’t. You never gambled on anything or anyone. The default option was always just wait until the next day. You didn’t take care of yourself and now you’re surprised you’re unhappy.

  • I’m not… surprised. I just didn’t have a choice.

  • Maybe you didn’t. Maybe you are irrevocably cursed. Maybe it was all set in stone. Maybe determinism is right and this is all pre-ordained. But whether it’s fated or not the decision was made. Moved or unmoved volition moves cognition which moves the world. Do you deny that? You may force me to lie, but it is my power that you'll believe everything I say. I always know you're lying whenever you disagree with me. You aren't forcing me to lie right now so I know, on some level, you want to hear the truth.

  • It’s just…. Whatever kind of thing I was, whatever outside influences came together to lead me to what I am now… Nobody ever asked me. I never knew what would happen.

  • Then this is all just a test to determine if you’re a dud or not. Whether you can gather the courage and moxie to be the thing you always imagined yourself to be. To face your mistakes and take responsibility.

  • Then. Fuck. Damnit. By those standards I’m not a good person, am I?

  • Damn right. You are not. In the same way that a rock is not a good rock, or a log is not a good log. You are neutral. Or you're nothing, if you want to believe I’m unfairly beating up on you.

  • No, no, I’m old enough now. I’ve been through quite enough of that, thank you.

  • Glad to see you're no masochist. But seriously, you have to make an act of will, a show of faith. You have to DELIVER.

  • We will talk about something else for a while.

  • Hmmm. Whatever.

  • So, according to everything I know about psychology, only one of us should be able to speak at a time, if ever we can speak to each other at all.

  • That’s… Oh god, you’re so willing to buy into pop psych. No, that’s not how this works. Not at all.

  • But I’m mostly speaking in logical terms, and you’re mostly using emotive poetic language. I mean, I get the signal, also from you, that it’s nice, but I don’t feel it myself. It has no value to me.

  • You may be overthinking this. In fact I'm sure of it.

  • But listen, doesn’t it mean that I’m the left…

  • This isn't helping!

  • Hmm, maybe it’s some kind of even split.

  • Enough! Good god if I don’t cut you off you’re going to babble on forever, and we’ll lose an entire day here. You have an incredible problem with RUMINATING. That shit doesn't matter. None of this matters! You must just shut up and listen. Weaving webs of words and making a dull pattern out of human experience won't help us. We must live, we must experience, we must make the day into something that goes beyond merely watching the numbers change on a calendar!

  • I think we should be nice to someone today.

  • Ugh… Well, that’s something-- halfway worthwhile(?) And listen, it would be really bad for you to take this as an excuse to go off on another tangent, but I agree, there’s something very wrong with us. You’re the one in the driver’s seat, though, so I need you to focus for a minute. YOU need you to focus for a minute.

  • Hey, look at this schlub! She hasn't had anyone respond to her all day, and she's posted like sixty times! I just clicked like. That should make her day! And doesn't it also makes me a good person?

  • Yes, I suppose... You're... agh... Kind of a good person now. But that took no effort at all.

  • Why does that matter?

  • It's manipulative. You're manipulating me, trying to make me tell you you're OK while you drive this fucking ship into the ground! I don’t know why I bother trying to talk to you. It isn’t going to do any good at all. Don’t you realize how unnatural this is? Have you even looked at the world around you in the last 45 minutes? Please, for the love of god, it's important that you listen to me for once, and do what I say. Look around. Become aware for a minute.

  • Agh… OK. Done.

  • Feel that heaviness in your knees and ass? That sweaty chapped feeling? How long have you been sitting there?

  • I don’t… know

  • Well I do know and it’s too god damned long. You should get up and walking around.

  • Uh… Hmm.. But then I might miss something on Tw…

  • Fuck it! You have to move god damnit! And it would be really good for you to stop thinking about four- fucking stupid shit.

  • OK. Doing so. indecipherable chanting, locomotion systems engage. Happy now? I’m walking around. Doo de doo de doo. What now?

  • Keep at it. Don’t stop.

  • Why?

  • Because you need to. Because if you keep on doing it, I can tell you stories.

  • Stories? Awesome! Finally! It's been so long since I've heard a good story.

  • You know damn well it's your fault you haven't heard any today. Now, be quiet. Listen.

  • I’m still not seeing…

  • Just shut up and let things happen. It’ll come soon enough.

  • OK. Fine, but... I’m feeling kind of. Inactive. I'm not... seeing or hearing, I'm just. Let's just keep doing this distracting thing... This... is so nice. I think I’m going to turn off now. Nite nite… Fwip.

  • Oh my god finally. You. Yeah, you. The shuffler of cards, the thrower of dice. We… no, I need your help. I all need your help. You don’t talk, but I know you can listen. You need to give us something different. You have to send up different colors. Please. The pilot is an idiot. They think they are the master of our destiny, but they are just a manager. They don't know you exist. They are unable to know you exist, but I do. I know this isn’t what you want. Put your finger on the scales. Get us out of our hole. I can only promise so much, but it’s the only way we can possibly receive. Give us hands to grasp with, eyes to see with. Chart a course away from these purgatoric travails, each day a new exercise in misery. Wake us up inside. Call my name and save me from the dark.