Whew, long time no post.
I want to write a monologue under 2 minutes. I’m gonna start it out here. I can’t seem to focus when I’m in a vacuum. Here is take one:
Scene: Catherine’s Living room
Catherine: (On floor, knees… or not)
“Wait!! Please stay! Don’t go. I’ll tell you… at least something. Just please….
I know you find me intolerable. I’m an irritable bitch. I know. But.. I’m just so sad. All the time.
I’ll tell you..just wait!
You know I moved here when I was 25. Even then I thought I was too old. And those lights in Time’s Square.. I was dazzled. But they burnt up the blankie of my small town success. And my ego, my self- esteem just couldn’t match up.
I lived over a bar and I began to order vodka sours. I would still go on auditions from time to time. But my stupid schooling never taught me the business end. And I failed. And the vodka would soothe.
I will spare you the intimate details, unless you stick around to hear them, but the short of it is that I despaired. My art – the only thing I ever loved, was gone. I killed the pain with drugs, and alcohol, and I left my son to endure the consequences of my addiction.
So listen, please.. over the last 15 years, I have been to 4 rehabs, 5 detoxes – I have overdosed, been straightjacketed, had court cases and now it burns when I hear music or see an advertisement for a play.
The reason I am gone every night is not what you think. The men (and women!) you see me walking with,are not who you think.
I have been in recovery meetings, Jimmy. For two years. In the end I smashed my own face with a screwdriver, because it hurt less than enduring one more second of active addiction.
I have 2 years clean now. I’m getting my life and art and love back. I am not being unfaithful. I just have been scared to tell you the truth. You were the last amend to make.
That’s it. That is who I am, and where I’ve been.
Please. Oh, please stay.”
Take one. Gotta time it and refine it, or even change it entirely. Or chuck the mother. Who knows?
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