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Monologue

(It is dark. Person is lying down on a bed and facing the wall. Person begins to whisper)
You ask, why did I do it? Well, itís a simple question. Itís too simple. I canít get around to it. Thatís not the way it goes. Itís not always that perfect, you know. I donít know what you want me to say. I suppose Iím to say something youíd like to hear. So Iím talking to you. I donít know who the hell Iím supposed to be so I guess Iíll be who Iím most comfortable being. I guess that is who Iíll be today, right now. So I should get into details, but the details arenít that good. Iím not vivid. What do I know about crafting some sort of story? Some mystery, whatever. I canít do it. So Iím asking again, the one thing Iím supposed to tell you. (Pause) My crowd. This is my crowd. The walls. The white walls that never reply. Youíre my crowd. Iíd like a tape recorder. Iíd like something to track this all down. Something intense. Thatís what Iím supposed to tell. Why do I even bother with what Iím supposed to be? You notice thatís all Iíve asked. I havenít said anything and what is there to tell anymore than what you can infer from this? And hell, I am sure thereís a lot for you to tell from this. Lots of meaning in between. I think youíre looking for something. A solution. Well there arenít any simple solutions. I am this way for no explanation and whatís the use of explanations? Iíve told myself over and over. Had to rationalize my very being and for what? And for whose benefit? Iím wondering where this is leading. Yes, I know Iím not giving my answers much thought. Iím not doing what I should do. I should give a nice story about beingÖand about why I did such and such. Well, it is simple! I do the things I do. And help it, why should I help it? The question itself is negative. At least geared towards me, it is. Itís negative because Iím responding like some kind of a patient and Iím to delight you with some answer. Well, Iím sure youíve heard these a dozen times before, but Iíve gotta do it again. Iíve gotta do it again, because Iím alone and I donít know who else has experienced it like I have. I donít know who else has lived this so I repeat it like it was solely mine. But itís not just mine. And I can imagine you looking at me in disapproval like Iíve done something wrong. Thereís supposed to be that answer. I should tell you like all the other kids doÖthe kids with their normal lives. Itís easy for them. They donít have to make things up because it could easily be your life. Iíve gotta run around in circles and hint what Iím trying to say. And Iíve gotta do it for your approval and Iím wondering what this approval thing is gonna do for me because I know itíll just make me like everyone else. Well, I think Iíve touched upon one thing. Thatís for sure. Itís the thing about being indirect and thatís something Iíve mastered. So please read into it all, but donít simplify it. Donít categorize it, although if you could see me, itíll be the easiest thing in the world to do. To categorize! Maybe Iím just bleeding for someone to figure things out. Was I supposed to say, Ďfigure me out?í I think so.

-STUPOR

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