blackout

clamor wrought clocks
undesirable went, flipped
fragility took up a little more space
plots, just a freeze frame
shock, just a freeze pop
beauty, less attractive
lust, there just... wasn't any
confusion meant correction
practicality ate the abstract
the lights were brighter
til the bulb burned out

when i

when i smoke cigarettes i feel like a poet

i’ll take it plain

i’ll take it black

i changed my mind again

i had become so good at changing my mind

i was slowly transitioning into a gimmick, a cartoon

and was hilariously okay with it

the room cleared

as each confused

bundled themselves up

as i grappled and debated

twenty six seemed like

the exact number

to make me cry

when i tear pages i feel like a poet

i tricked myself into a memory

layers peeled off

layers put on

layers peeled off

layers put on

layers peeled off

layers put on

i tricked myself into a coma

i begged my eyesight to be better

i wasn’t really as destructive as i wanted to be

i shook my head at obsession

every page more full than before

every clock more wound than before

every sunset, a sunset

every meal, just a meal

when i count stars i feel like a poet

distance wrung itself like an old rag

and i took a bath in what was left

i always cheated when i did a trust fall

i back peddled

i back peddled

i always wanted to be the highest point in the room

i climbed

i climbed

i always made rules

i followed

i followed

when i sleep late i feel like a poet

i was aching to see my name more places

so i wrote it

over and over

i just wanted to care less

i’ve always wanted to care less

but i exist with less than two minutes on the clock

and so i watched the replays

i watched the replays

i watched the replays

i watched the replays

i wish i could become

the space between my contradictions

i wish i could become

the off beats

i wish my hearing was better

and my observation skills worse

i spend my time wishing

i spend my time writing

i spend my time hot but mostly cold

i spend my time there but mostly here

i’m looking for persuasion

but i’m not looking that hard

easier said than done

rambunctious fading divided by secrets kept secret

an underground delusion flocking towards popularity personified

last week wasn’t so bad

this week isn’t so bad

ruptured less calm than before ruptured

i am the function

i am the collection

i am the spell breaker

devised and spelt out

severed and drawn out

rather than swindle

rather than this and that and that and this

rather than giggle and giggle

rather than guzzle and guzzle

i

bit

my

tongue

property tax

i tried to take the old words

and turn them into new words

i tried to sell my samples

undersell them, i should say

held tightly

quickly gripping

a light storm, at least

a raincheck

a nightmare

i desisted and ceased

with complex layered chaos

in sixths sevenths and thirds

i stopped before complaining

cuz i myself couldn’t play

free wheeling

gentle distrust

the friends of the beast

the homeless

the discourse

i bought rented and leased

a sonnet on a cold day

sometimes there’s talking after the song is recorded

sometimes there’s breath after the smoke’s all out

the old man’s blinks were intentional but discordant

the young girl’s teapot had a handle, a spout

there was building and building, a determined new start

there was digging and digging for the fossils below

the old man was balding, gone was his part

the young girl matched her tights to her bow

the postcards were burned, the letters obsolete

the emails begged for the clicked resend

the old man swore off his hands, cursed his feet

the young girl murdered her imaginary friend

a thousand hands in the air, a thousand aches to be involved

all the specifics became generic, all the ages dissolved

looks like we made it

i like the jokes i don’t like the texture just a jester an underhand gesture downed a gallon for your health FOR HEALTH! spell it all out because the end result was always under construction anyway leveling it out delving into it scared of the underwhelming sure to overbear learn a language write a song appetite doesn’t have to die with the changing banging charisma that used to reign supreme seek your shadow send a postcard with a nun hula-hooping on it door to door sales are sure to stop caress the impractical laying down the law on a new reality deserting a liar for a smile and a free hot chocolate spanning the globe with a small attempt to just dissolve clarity lived down the block from realism and the hurricane hit hard so can we all please settle down and get excited and stop a second stop a second second enjoy a joke for a joke and maybe a little more spread it all so thin revel and revel and revel there is no end

back2bk

it’s not coming out as words these days

there’s plenty-a cashed bowls, cigarette ash

soaked coasters

half charged iphones

lipstick on straws

worn heels, broken heels

plenty-a roof screaming, lengthy exhaling

overpriced bagel sandwiches

new faces saying not new things

old faces saying… something awesome, i’d assume

seems like there’s lots of hazy arguments, free free days

complaints on repeat, jokes jokes jokes

on layers of awe, anger, annoyance, abnormality

of wandering contention

it’s not coming out as words these days

but there’s plenty-a laughing, I gotta admit

no ulterior motive

i will rhyme i promise i will rhyme

it will not be a slant rhyme

it will be good

it will make you say ooooh that sure was clever

what a clever girl

you will like what i have to say

you will like how i say it

you probably will not like me as much as you like those things

i will smile because i have dimples and when i smile you can see the dimples

and i am cuter than when i don't smile. i think you will agree

i have a memory that is persistent 

it does not forget details very easily 

there is a poison that i sometimes drink that makes me forget details much more easily

you have drank way more poison than i have. so have you and probably you too. 

on a friday night (that is the night for fun you know that of course (please don't have fun other nights))

the amount of poison consumed in my city in my state in my country 

is relatively terrifying. saturday too. 

i can feel the muscles in my back.

i can feel the muscles in my legs. 

i can feel the muscles in my arms. 

i think i'm stronger than you. you too. not you though you look pretty strong

i've read a lot of poems. how many poems do you think you've read? 

how many songs do you think you know? 

it's weird because big numbers are still numbers

it makes me mad that infinity can get bigger like the equasion infinity + infinity = infinity 

does that make you mad?

(i don't think i spelled equasion right) (i looked it up it's a t not an s. english sure is strange but it doesn't make me mad does it make you mad?)

i like to ask questions with no ulterior motive

i don't think this happens that often 

the next time i'm asked why do you ask i vow to answer i like answers

do you like questions or answers better? 

i like how 6:45 looks on clock hands best out of all the combinations of clock hands

i'm excited because it's 6:08 except i don't always get excited for 6:45

but i still think it's important to have favorites

i just realized my favorite color is glow-in-the-dark

i don't really think time is of the essence anymore because i kinda think time is mean

i tried to stop hating everything that wasn't my favorite but it was really hard 

the backs of my eyes

i can’t write poems like i wrote in january

and i can’t count cards like i counted in october

can’t take shots like i took in august

and i can’t trace stencils like i traced in april

weather turned to weather

snow to rain

water on water on water

i was not ready

i was not collected

a map unnoticed

i was a map unnoticed

frenzy dissipated

(like i fucking predicted)

ten clicks, glazed eyes

a brand with plans i refused to recognize

i burned another calendar

and the results weren’t so clear, after all

space was suffocating me

as level as scripted conversation

i backed out on my star contract

i reneged that meteor deal

black holes kept calling...i didn’t pick up

breathing became my boyfriend

i was queen of affection

i was queen of attention

i was queen, oh i was queen

femininity was mine for the taking

so fuck all you suckaaaaaaaas

i started smashing

all those orbs i saw

i started clashing

shoes to pants to shirt to hat

the splattered crossover caught my eye

but i was faithful

the deadline spent it’s inheritance

but i was frugal

the tools rusted, rust on rust

but i was flawless

the clouds created a prison

but i was free

i kept raising the stakes

but i wasn’t in love

no, really, i wasn’t in love

i stopped investigating the sky

but breakups are never easy

they started charging me for change

but, like, it’s not really my fault

that I’m as young as I am

and that everyone’s an asshole

i knew all about magic

cuz i believed in magic

i knew all about style

cuz i believed in style

i knew all about words

cuz i believed in words

what i knew and what i believed

started fucking, couldn’t stay friends

oh it was all messed up

freedom for freezing

(my words were becoming something else)

practiced participation, parallel precipitation

nights on nights on nights

flurry of the laces as means to hang the globe

flavored lightly, seasoned lightly

disoriented ricocheted oblivion

the weight was hard to judge

i couldn’t be what they thought i was

i couldn’t get taken seriously these days if i tried

plans became numbers

became puddles

became debris

it wreaked of unknown territory, of creativity shouted

collided waiting for a chance to go really go really go for it

not force fed, not persuaded

a nocturne paralysis for the sake of something forgotten

i gathered dismissal slips

i found the shredder

i found the shredder

i found the shredder

i thought there’d be more words

by the time i grew up

thought light would be liquid

thought money’d be morbid

thought people would be free

i write poems so i can become them

not like a weirdo

more like a transcendentalist

sometimes i become convinced my leg muscles

are too long for my legs

sometimes i become convinced

of a lot of things

i was rather misconstrued about how i would feel in the world on my own

but i’m not mad

i used to think it’d make me mad

and i’m not even sad

i thought for a while, i’d get real sad

but, i guess,

when i’m all of it

and when i’m none of it

when i’m a midwest winter

when i’m a brooklyn ice cream truck

when i’m roots, trunks, branches

when i’m leaves only leaves

if if then then

i’ll get less scared

and i’ll see it all decorated

in the way i imagined

slide to open

a million strangers will come and go

they’ll look at each other

and at me

but mostly at their phones

i’ll get distracted and sad

and i’ll get temporarily inarticulate

and i’ll cry in coffee shops

in very close proximity

to a bunch of people

looking at their phones

pragmatic, ya know

almost like breathing but easier but cleaner

almost like bleeding but eerier but coarser

almost like breaking but eagerer but crazier

almost like boasting but eviler but colder

fragility convulsed on the brink of her first original idea

reassurance as propaganda or so she thought

the air she smelled missed photosynthesis

she did too

her contradictions convinced her she was interesting

her needs were as needy as everyone else’s

happiness hugged remorse

confusion killed impulse

fear fucked balance

the time was her time and she begged it to stay

you can see the colors if you look into my eyes really hard

jamming and jamming

to the unheard tune

framed inside four 90 degree angles

sure seemed like a lot of pressure

if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to go

if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to go

if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to go

i didn’t need sympathy, i needed a haircut

barely accurate means not accurate

I’m sorry I’m so so sorry

something about april reminds me of mortality

and if it’s not sadness what is it

and if it’s not fury what is it

and if it’s not now when is it

and it it’s not later when is it

like memory

ONE

i remember when it was less beautiful

and made more sense

i remember when it was more beautiful

and made less sense

i remember when my brain moved slower

when time was my telescope

when distance took naps

i remember my broken CD player

my broken boombox

my broken box

before there was beating sun, there were beaches

light stole shapes stole sheets stole shore

before there was hot sand and cold sand

there were sunsets, mostly the same

TWO

my cooling coffee

in my cooling coffee shop

inaugural adjustments

on the fire escape

talking full voice

sorry, can’t hear you

walking bass line

sorry, can’t catch you

mixed messages

crass jokes

i got brought back

i was brought back

i kept expecting someone i knew

to walk through the door

ok i was waiting for him

to walk through the door

placated simplicity

asked who really was the smartest

all the creatives

started asking for their money

all the money

started asking for it’s mom

all the banks collapsed

all the debt dissolved

all the everything

got madder and madder

flaccid chord structure

and terrible lyrics

washed me over and over

choices as mosquito bites

open windows in the rain

exaggerated flamboyancy

distrusted recognition

power punched combinations

i googled every sentence

i googled every word

variance became my edge

flippancy became my-

never mind I’d always been flippant

health at cost for a cultural embrace

as both an involved and an anti

mirror into mirror into mirror

rather replicated and okay with it

canned, convoluted, oversaturated, overdrawn

an anticlimactic break

in an old fashioned fashion

i felt i was being too quiet

so i got myself interrupted

i felt i was taking it too seriously

it was fiction, after all

but none the less

i still get nervous eating pomegranate seeds

and i’m constantly leaving dean to the road

i always check if he’s a montague

and i swear i didn’t kill the albatross

i’ve seen the same bearded face

over and over

i’ve heard the same bushwick hipster joke

a thousand times

and still, i minded neither

and spent all the money i made

THREE

i get so sad at the ends of pages

and far less sad at the ends of roads

i remember a trail much longer than i should

i remember their names much more often than i should

it’s not the rules i’ve forgotten

it’s the record

i’ve never been the girl with the umbrella

i’m the girl with the backpack

qualitated vocabulary

a restless comedian

authenticated wisdom

trying to remember

which meant greater than

which meant less than

flavored distaste

inarticulate past tense

i shortened the wire

i shortened the rope

i sorted through profile picture after profile picture

the cover version just wasn’t the version i wanted

bricks were laid by that bricklayer there

but i didn’t want to believe

layers were made

of jazz and consonants

of peace and nicotine

of passwords and naivete

of gin and color

of blood and guts

freezing and unfreezing

frozen and unfrozen

i piled recollections

like the woodstacks of my youngest youth

off the roof

the quick flick
portable parallelogram
of a plan

stripes in the sky
like signs from time

it's somehow
more and less
our fault

easy like one of those mornings

hasn't quite been the same
tho...
it hasn't quite been that different
i think i just keep remembering smells
and i know that blood moon is still around

i just think we belong at the top of the world

why must i float
i was asking again
why can't i just sit
or root like a tree
why must i rise
not rest, not content
the tops twirl and twinkle
the gears grinded grime
i stretch curve revolve revolve
but way way up high

maybe

maybe
because my words sounded ugly
because the seasons crackled crumbled
because the locks were changed
because the shelves rearranged
because the adverbs fucked the adjectives
because the semicolon stood alone
because the clever was in costume
because the articulate were slapped in the face
because the before was annoying
because the after was terrible
because I was here sooner
and I was here later
maybe,
yeah, because,
uh,
maybe I don't get to be a poet anymore

pragmatic, ya know

almost like breathing but easier but cleaner

almost like bleeding but eerier but coarser

almost like breaking but eagerer but crazier

almost like boasting but eviler but colder

fragility convulsed on the brink of her first original idea

reassurance as propaganda or so she thought

the air she smelled missed photosynthesis

she did too

her contradictions convinced her she was interesting

her needs were as needy as everyone else’s

happiness hugged remorse

confusion killed impulse

fear fucked balance

the time was her time and she begged it to stay

Play 1: up for grabs

A series of tableaus. Men with various chairs. The Host makes his way around to each tableau, lots of light, energy, spectacle. Like a game show meets auction show, an auction show of chairs.

Host: And you sir, what's this ya got here?

#1: Oh this, my good pal, is what I'll be offerin' up today... and nice and sturdy rocking chair. A good ol' fashioned rocking chair.

Host: A rocking chair! How novel! Tell us more!

#1: Well, it is a high quality oak that was actually grown in my own hometown. A settled type of chair, a dependable in its simplicity type of chair.

Host: A helluva chair!

#1: Dare I say it, but yes a helluva chair.

Host: So tell us why it's up on the docket today if it's such a fine chair.

#1: Well, pal, if we're being frank, which I'm gonna go ahead and assume we are, I'm bored! Bored stiff! I just want a new goddamn chair, know what I'm sayin'?

Host: I sure do! Any takers get right on that line, the numbers at the bottom of your screen. Now folks, we got a lotta chairs to see today! Whoooo's next?

#2: Oh hello hello good afternoon hello.

Host: Hello to you, mister.

#2: Right er can I tell you about um what I um brought on the show today?

Host: I think that's what you're required to do!

#2: Haha. Oh er right. So I brought this um recliner.

Host: Looks like a fine fine recliner indeed.

#2: Oh it most certainly is. Kinda thing that had always been around my family growing, I mean um ya know ya always want a good recliner. Helps ya relax, get comfy, er ya know?

Host: Not a bad way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

#2: Er um exactly. Yeah exacly.

Host: So what brings you on our program today then?

#2: Oh er um do I have to answer that, was that on the agreement?

Host: Um, well, you've done a satisfactory job of making this awkward...

#2: Um okay sorry well I um just don't really see a need for chairs anymore.

Host:... No more chairs.

#2: Uh chairs aren't for everybody.

Host: Oh certainly not. Okay folks again, see those ten numbers... see anything ya like, you let us know! Alright, let's see..

#3: Yo. Sup.

Host: Well hello. What is up?

#3: Yeah I'm tryin to get rid of this fuckin thing.

Host: Oh my. Well you know that you're being recorded to try and get someone else to buy this “thing”... so you might want to dress it up a little bit.

#3: Oh I think it's plenty dressed up. Look at this thing. All this armchair gets is attention. Anyone that comes over... just entranced by the thing. It's a fuckin distraction. I can't take it.

Host: Holy something, it is rather beautiful, isn't it?

#3: See! This is what I'm fuckin talkin about.

Host: I didn't mean to offend, sir, sorry, I just... really was enamored by the beauty here. I mean, the details, the finishings, it's rather astounding.

#3: YES. I KNOW. I KNOW ABOUT THE FUCKIN DETAILS. CAN YOU JUST GET RID OF IT FOR ME?

Host: Oh, I see the lines are actually already blowing up for this gorgeous gorgeous creature. Excellent. NEXT UP!

#4: Hi hi helllllo. Excited to be here.

Host: Alright we're back folks, that's what I like to hear.

#4: Yeah, man, totally. Anyway, I got this elegant little piece here. This Victorian parlor chair.

Host: That is a lovely little accent piece. So fine. So frail. I see why you can get drawn to it.

I gotta be honest, though sir, looks a little... fragile.

#4: Well, yes, that's sort of the problem. But it's lovely. Can we say once again that it's lovely. I really don't like to go to long without reminding it that it's really the prettiest chair in the room.

Host: Well, there is stiff competition in here today...

#4: Dude. Can you just lie, please?

Host: Lovely. Lovely indeed. Okay. I believe we have one more to see today.

#5: Hey man, how's it going?

Host: Going great. What have you got for use here, hello.

#5: Yeah it's a hamburger beanbag.

Host: A hamburger beanbag! That thing is hilarious!

#5: It's pretty awesome.

Host: That thing is definitely awesome. Oh, nice and comfy too. Damn man, what's wrong with it?

#5: Well...

Host: What is it? Seems great to me...

#5: Well, I mean... it's a hamburger beanbag.

Host: So?

#5: Come on, man. Don't make me do this.

Host: Do what, sir? I'm just curious.

#5: If you don't get it... well, you should take it home.

Host: Well, let's be real here, I can't just call dibs on whatever chair I see I like. Cuz let me tell you... I could have a LOT of chairs. But I first must open up the phone lines... here we go folks, last chance today. Thank you so much for tuning in today. Again in review on today's program, lines are still open folks, we had a sturdy rocking chair, a fabulous recliner, a breathtaking arm chair, a Victorian treat and of course we can't forget, my personal favorite... the beanba-

During the wrap up speech, #5 can be seen slowly breaking down, crying, freaking, and eventually taking a knife and tearing apart the hamburger beanbag. The Host turns around just as he finishes his speech to #5 relentlessly tearing up the chair as the lights fade. 

Play 2: compatibility

S and B always face front, split the stage. They are respectively telling their story to someone asking, but rather to the audience. They are active story tellers. S1 and B1 exist in the very center of the stage. They are very very still.

S: My plan back fired.

S1: I remember the reflection. The angle. The sun.

S: My plan back fired.

S1: I remember the jokes. The set ups. The punch lines.

S: Things did not go as planned.

S1: I remember my top eyelid hitting my bottom eyelid.

S: Things did not go as planned.

S1: I remember my heart touching my ribcage.

S: It had started so quickly. It was one of those summers that just gets pushed onto you. Like just one day you notice you're a little weighed down and then all of a sudden you can feel the whole season on your back. I was here and he was there. I was here and he was there. It was quick and heavy, like I said.

B: I don't know if I'd use the word perfect.

B1: I lost something in the translation.

B: I don't know if I'd use the word perfect.

B1: I got distracted by, there were lots of distractions.

B: By this point, I said fuck it.

B1: I couldn't pay attention, okay?

B: By this point, I said fuck it.

B1: I couldn't understand, okay?

B: I was used to something a little different, alright? I wasn't ready for, for what happened. It wasn't quite what I wanted; it wasn't at all what I wanted.

S: I reached for the air, from the bottom of the pool, I begged for the air to come back. I begged and I pleaded and I asked for another minute. Another breath. I was shaking in the warmth, wallowing in the freneticism I had created.

B: She was there. She was fine. It was hot. Oh, it was hot.

S: I was ready to break boundaries. I was ready for my debut. I had it all under control.

B: I wasn't obligated, ya know. I was being nice.

S: I was sure I'd done it. I'm telling you, I was anew.

B: Well and ya know, one thing led to another. But she was, she wasn't what I wanted.

S: I really thought I could be that type.

S1: I remember everything.

S: I thought that maybe I could make something could mean something.

S1: But what if but what if but what if

B: It was like it all mattered too much.

B1: I mean, really.

B: Like it all had to mean something. Like we couldn't just sit and be okay.

B1: I mean, shut up.

S1: I remember everything.

B1: I mean, shut up.

S1: I remember everything.

B1: I mean, shut up.

B1 and S1 move for the first time as they repeat this, getting gradually louder, and circling each other in a special center stage. They keep going for the remainder of the play.

S: I'm sick of people thinking I'm crazy.

B: It was just too much, ya know.

S: I'm not naïve, ya know.

B: She wasn't too much the way most girls are too much.

S: I don't know how else to feel.

B: It's just not worth it, ya know, to love a poet. 

Play 3: sexual healing

Him and Her are banging.

Him: Are you, um, enjoying yourself?

Her: What?

Him: Are you enjoying yourself?

Her: Um, yeah.

Him: Are you sure?

Her: Yeah. Yes. No, yeah, I totally am.

Him: Well could you maybe... participate here? I mean, give me something.

Her: Oh shit, I'm so sorry. I'm just quiet. I'm really quiet.

Him: Well, it's making me feel like you're asleep.

Her: I'm not asleep. I'm obviously awake.

Him: Right. Yeah, it's hyperbole.

Her: Oh, haha, at first I was thinking hyperbola, not hyperbole. Haha.

Him: Is this like, a normal experience for you right now?

Her: What do you mean?

Him: I mean, this is really weird sex.

Her: Oh, I kinda abandoned hope for normalcy in any aspect of my life a long time ago.

Him: So this isn't weirding you out?

Her: Not really. Is it weirding you out?

Him: Yeah kinda.

Her: Well, we probably won't have sex again.

Him: No, probably not.

Her: Does that bother you?

Him: Oh God, are you attached? Please tell me you're not one of those girls.

Her: Ugh see, this is what's wrong with the world.

Him: What? All those fucking Kate Hudson movies and fucking Twilight have disillusioned you women to think that everything is all romance and roses and blah blah, but this is just sex, okay?

Her: Wow. Really original. My poor woman brain, fantasizing about my Prince Charming. And god damn it, why am I think only person in the world who wants to have sex with a person I like.

Him: Oh god, see this is what I mean...

Her: No. I get it. Sex is just sex, our primal needs blah blah blah... but I just can't get into the fucking just to fuck thing. If I can't stand to be in the room with you, I don't want your fucking dick in me. And unfortunately, I can't stand most people. And any that I happen to consider candidates to put their dick in me, well they always have girlfriends. Girlfriends that are never me. And sure I could hook up with every creep that stops me on the street, I could certainly fuck those who grace me with their attention, and because of their instant objectification I'm supposed to feel obligated in some way to them, or I could just use them, right, power as a slut, super empowering. I don't want to fucking marry you, I don't even believe in marriage, but then tonight was actually a pretty nice evening, I actually had a great time, and so this is like the first time I've fucked in a while because I just can't do the normal fuck and go like everyone else because I get trapped in my head and freak out and I'd love to just bang everything but I dunno, I'm just not like everyone else. Not to mention pregnancy and STDs and fucking cancer. You can get cancer from just fucking the wrong person. So I don't know what exactly I'm supposed to do, I just, I just, I just (She finally shuts up, they finish together).

Him: Yeah, I'd recommend you stick with the really quiet bit. (He kisses her.) It's okay, ya know. (He stares at her hard. He kisses her again.)

Play 4: what's wrong

Ali and Some Boy are walking upstage to downstage, holding hands. He freezes.

Ali: I spent all summer getting high and listening to weird music, like latino club hits like Biggie album after Biggie album like Snoop Lion, it's reggae, get into it. I partied. I went to San Francisco by myself. I got another tattoo. I sat and thought about why I was fucked up. I was trying to figure out what was wrong with me because something was wrong with me, even though I knew that there shouldn't be anything wrong. I was in my brain and I was really trapped there. I knew once I let go I could have it all. The problem was, I couldn't let go.

Some Boy unfreezes, they keep walking, Ali begins to sob.

Some Boy: What do you need?

Ali: I don't need anything

Some Boy: How can I help you?

Ali: You can't.

Some Boy: Why are you sad?

Ali: (shakes head)

Some Boy: What is it? Why are you sad?

Ali: (shakes head)

Some Boy: You were just fine. Are you hurt?

Ali: It's fine. Okay? Really... I'm fine.

Some Boy: Then stop bawling.

Ali: I'm just, it's just...

Some Boy: What?

Ali: I'm fine.

Some Boy: You don't get to do this.

Ali: Do what?

Some Boy: You don't get to do this to me.

Ali: Do what?

Some Boy: You are sobbing in the street here. Sporadically. One second normal, next second weeping. And all I get is that you can't be helped and that you're fine. You're not fine. Something is clearly wrong with you.

Ali: It's not me, it's lots of-

Some Boy: Ya know, lots is wrong with lots of people. Don't act like you're so broken and original.

Ali: Wow.

Some Boy: What?

Ali: Fuck you, man.

Some Boy: I'm trying to help you.

Ali: I DON'T NEED HELP. I NEEDED TO CRY FOR A MINUTE.

Some Boy: BUT WHY?

Ali: Why do I have to explain this to you?

Some Boy: Because, Ali, crying requires a heightened sense of emotion. This heightened sense of emotion is triggered by something. We weren't talking about your parents divorce, we weren't talking about your friends dying, we were talking about Breaking Bad. The fact you're giving me no insight into what the fuck is going on in that brain of yours makes me believe you have no trust in me whatsoever, that I'm somehow not worth your problems.

Ali: My problems have nothing to do with you. Or this. I'm not even crying about my problems.

Some Boy: What? They have nothing to do with me? God damnit, girl, when are you gonna fucking get it?

Ali: Get what?

Some Boy: I want all your problems. I want all your secrets. I want it all.

Ali: I don't really know that you do.

Some Boy: I'M TELLING YOU I DO.

Ali: You really want to know?

Some Boy: Yes.

Ali: I was crying because I saw that, um, ya know I can't explain it, I, I... I just, I had to.

Some Boy: (long stare)

Ali: I'm sorry. I, I...

(he begins to leave, freezes)

Ali: I gotta stop crying impulsively for the human condition. There's really no explanation... and it sure seems to get me into a lot of trouble. I want a world where I cry when I want to cry and no one gets mad. I want a world where I don't get sad when I'm happy. I want a world where mother's don't get left by their children, where nobody hangs their head as others pass, where an imperfection in the sidewalk doesn't set me off into ballistics. I want to save the world. I think I'll save the world.

Play 5: tickled

Server 1: A man tickled me.

Server 2: What?

Server 1: A man at my table. He tickled me.

Server 2: What man? What table?

Server 1: Table 21. That party. That grown ass man. Seat six.

Server 2: Who's the woman?

Server 1: I'm not sure. Definitely could be his wife. I don't know. So, I was getting the dessert order and the man ordered a hot fudge sundae but instead of vanilla ice cream he wanted chocolate peanut butter and that sounded really good so I got excited for him and I was like nodding my head after he ordered, like yeahhhh you do want that sundae and he was like laughing at my response and he reached out and tickled me.

Server 2: Like how?

Server 1: Like this. (She reaches out and like full on tickles his knee, and up and down from the knee) And obviously I was uncomfortable so I just kinda looked around and walked away. And he kept tickling the side of my leg.

Server 2: That's really weird.

Server 1: It IS really weird, isn't it?

Server 2: Yes.... did he tip well?

Server 1: 18%.

Server 2: Damn. Must not have been a very satisfying tickle.

Server 1: Rude.

Server 2: Whatever.

Server 1: Hey, can I get sauvingnon blanc? (exits)

Server 3: What's up?

Server 2: She got tickled.

Server 3: haha, weird. So this lady goes, right as I approach the table, first approach, “okay so I need a half of a ravioli for her right away” and she points at her little baby.

Server 2: Ok

Server 3: And I was like oh I'm so sorry ma'am, we don't do a half order of our ravioli and she goes “um, she's a baby...she's not going to eat the whole thing.” I was like riiiiight, sure, but we still don't make a half order of the ravioli. How bout a half gnocci cunt?

Server 2: Right, I'll just take half a pilsner and three quarters of the calamari.

Server 3: Ugh, I know right. And of course everything went perfect, I was the sweetest, 35 on 250.

Server 2: Fuck that noise. Later. (exits)

Server 1: God damnit, are we all out of soda glasses?

Server 3: Here, yo, there's one right here.

Server 1: oh awesome, thank you, I do notttt have time to rack that shit.

Server 3: Heard you got tickled?

Server 1: Um, I DID get tickled.

Server 3: How do you respond to that?

Server 1: I just like walked away.

Server 4: Sooooooo, this just happened. Some bitch ordered a chicken salad with the dressing on the side. And when it came out with dressing on it, she cried. She cried.

Server 3: She cried? (exits)

Server 4: Cried.

Server 1: What the fuck?

Server 4: Apparently, she started thinking about how many calories she ingested and she started to cry.

Server 1: Tears?

Server 4: Very serious tears.

Server 1: I can't. I just can't. (exits)

Server 2: She tell you about getting tickled?

Server 4: Um, no.

Server 2: Oh she got tickled. Dude, did you see that dude flip out?

Server 4: No, where?

Server 2: From the back dining room.

Server 4: Oh I'm all the way up front, I just rang this in to the wrong bar.

Server 2: Oh well, apparently the guy ordered a strip, like a New York strip, but who ever his server was heard shrimp, so a grilled shrimp came out and he flipped his shit. He was screaming at servers, managers, he actually shoved someone. Flipping, asking where the fuck his steak was. Flipping out.

Server 4: We just do not get paid enough for dealing with this nonsense.

Server 2: I just can't figure out how people think restaurants run. Cuz they're run by people. By human beings. (exits)

Server 1: Oh man, so earlier...

Server 4: Did you get tickled?

Server 1: God damnit I just want to tell my own story. Oh by the way I heard about the deluxe.

Server 4: Oh you mean my 65 dollar seafood deluxe that requested on it for no clams and extra oysters that got sent out to a table as a BURGER DELUXE.

Server 1: How was it cooked?

Server 4: MEDIUM RARE (exits)

Server 5: Oh my god. I didn't know you were starving. Oh well why didn't you say something. I was just holding all your food in the back, for like, a while now, but shit now that I know you're starving, let me send that right out. Oh, so about that tickler...

Server 1: Why does everyone know this?

Server 5: Did you get a number at least?

Server 1: I didn't want a number.

Server 2: So this really beautiful girl left me her number, but it's like... what's the best way to tell her how nice and pretty I think she is, but that I'm gay.

Server 1: You're gonna respond?

Server 2: Well I don't want her to be embarrassed.

Server 5: But it's kinda embarrassing regardless cuz she left her number to a gay dude.

Server 2: You don't think I should respond?

Server 1: No you totally should... you guys can get facials together.

Manager: Hey guys, so, there's a fire in one of the walls in the kitchen. So, we gotta shut down for a bit.

Server 2: What

Manager: Yup

Server 5: Oh fuck this

Server 1: Oh man I have a million people who are gonna freak out

Manager: go go off you go. Hey, wait

Server 1: Yeah?

Manager: Did you get tickled?

Play 6: top three

I used to be be the ruler.

I used to be on top.

I paid my dues.

I earned my way in.

Then all at once

Just randomly one day

-I took over.

-I belonged.

-I regulated.

-I dominated.

I became the prisoner.

I became limited.

I became finite.

When I never used to be finite.

I was boxed.

I was regulated.

-But I knew success.

-I understood success.

-Have you seen the numbers?

-Have you seen the statistics?

It all got too crowded.

So I shoved.

Pushed and shoved.

But not on the scale I used to know.

Pushed and shoved on a different scale.

Pushing and shoving on a different scale was not what I'd hoped for.

So I changed the scale.

I adjusted the scale.

*so I took over

*I was lurking all along

*I mean really, who were we kidding

*Because like look around

*And bring it on

*Look where I am

*And look what I'm doing

*I deserve the break

*I earned the break

I was hurt.

I was injured.

The break was a joke.

And where was I?

Nowhere to be found.

A joke.

And I laughed for a bit.

Laughed and laughed.

And then I got mad.

Madder and madder.

Like crazy mad.

And I tried to figure out why.

But before I could figure out why-

I organized a brawl.

An all out war.

A fight. A real fight.

-I was in, I guess.

*Fucking right. Bring that shit on.

So the plans were made.

The details were set.

And when everyone showed-

I broke down.

I really broke broke down.

To the bottom.

And I begged.

And I pleaded.

And I asked a lot of questions.

And I asked a lot of answers.

And I really pushed for compromise.

I knew that I could do it.

I knew I could.

And if I believed-

And I believed I could believe

I could convince who I needed to convince

That I could, at the end of the day-

Win.

And then I heard it.

And it sent me back.

I heard-

“what the imagination seizes as beauty must be truth”

must be truth.

And once I heard that again

-”what imagination seizes as beauty must be truth”

and again

*”What imagination seizes as beauty must be truth”

I knew.

Oh did I know.

I was on my way back up.

Play 7: suitcased

Scene 1

Colin paces the floor of his apartment. He stops and stares at the black suitcase that lays on his table. It is clearly the focal point of the room. Colin paces, stares, paces, stares, Takes out his phone, looks at it, quickly places it down next to the suitcase. He takes his time, really thinking and gradually freaking out, and finally grabs the phone again.

Colin: Yeah I've got it. Nope, I've got it right here. Okay, okay. Well where shou- oh, okay, yeah sorry sir. It's just I've been, yeah okay, sorry. Okay. Yes. Yes. Yeah. No, I understand. The Grand stop. Yes. Okay.

Colin gets hung up on. He stares at the suitcase. He dials his phone.

Colin: Dude. What the fuck is this shit? I don't think I was supposed to have this thing, they sai- Right yeah. I'm, I mean, I'm kinda nervous dude. I mean, I'm kinda freaking out. For real? I still don't see what it has to do with me... yeah, no I know. Grand. Yup, yup, just a regular ride on the L Train. Nah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Okay. Later.

Scene 2

Colin waits on the subway, holding the suitcase. He looks around, he acts nervous, he acts strange. Finally as the Grand stop emerges, he creeps over to the subway doors. The open, he steps out, looks around and steps back on the train. He steps back on the train and throws the suitcase violently at the opposing doors. He picks it up, waits for the next stop, steps out and looks around again. Again, he steps back on the train and as the doors close, he begins to punch the doors in frustration. By this time, many people on the train have begun to stare at him, but the curiosity of Darcy has been especially piqued. When Colin gets off at the next stop, Darcy follows.

Darcy: um hey!

Colin: (turning back) What?

Darcy: Are you okay?

Colin: Am I what?

Darcy: Are you okay?

Colin: What is this? Are you part of the, the thing? Is this part of it?

Darcy: Nope.

Colin: I don't believe you. Here. (thrusts the suitcase out at her)

Darcy: I'm not a part of any thing.

Colin: Riiiight. Okay, well then can I help you?

Darcy: You just seemed pretty upset on the train, I just wanted to see if you were okay.

Colin: You're trying to tell me that you got off your train because I looked upset? This is New York City, bitch, yeah fucking right. Tell me what I have to do. Tell me the next step.

Darcy: Um, I really really don't know. I guess it does seem pretty weird, now that I think about it, but I wasn't really thinking about how it would seem when I got up. Shit, yeah, this is super weird. I'm sorry, I just, I just saw you and was so curious and then I got so worried. So when you got off, I got off.

Colin: That is weird.

Darcy: What's in the suitcase?

Colin: None of your business.

Darcy: You don't know, do you?

Colin: No, I don't fucking know.

Darcy: Have you tried to open it?

Colin: Of course. There's a code... I couldn't guess it.

Darcy: Well, have you-

Colin: Ya know, sorry to interrupt or whatever but who the fuck are you? This shit is really none of your business. Was this even your stop?

Darcy: Was it your stop?

Colin: No, I actually live- gah! Stop. Stop doing this. Leave me alone.

Darcy: Are you scared right now?

Colin: What? No.

Darcy: Cuz you're kinda acting scared. I'm like a 5 foot nothing white chick. I don't know why you're acting all spooked.

Colin: I'm not spooked.

Darcy: Well, I won't take all the credit. When you stepped back on the train at the Grand stop, you looked a little spooked. And then you looked a little crazed. What's in the suitcase?

Colin: I don't know what's in the fucking suitcase!

Darcy: You think we could figure out the code?

Colin: Okay, bitch, you're clearly involved. Do we have to kill each other or something?

Darcy: No, um. No, I'm

Colin: You're caught. Weren't really so stealth, if we're being honest here... So um, what's your fucking deal?

Darcy: Listen, don't be mad... I just

Colin: I'm not mad. I don't really give a shit.

Darcy: You don't give a shit? You don't give a shit about what you're holding?

Colin: I don't know what I'm holding! What is it?

Darcy: What? I don't know!

Colin: YOU DON'T KNOW?

Darcy: No, I have no idea.

Colin: Then why are you giving some soapbox talk about not giving a shit about this suitcase when you don't even know what's important about the suitcase?

Darcy: It's not the suitcase that's important, it's what the suitcase means.

Colin: And what does the suitcase mean?

Darcy: Well I don't know that either, I just know that I need you to get it opened.

Colin: Why?

Darcy: To save my sister.

Colin: What?

Darcy: Where'd you get the suitcase?

Colin: I told you-

Darcy: You didn't tell me anything. Where did you get it?

Colin: What do you mean, save your sister? Is there some trouble?

Darcy: Did you think all this shady shit going on... locked suitcases, anonymous instructions, crazy chicks following after you... all this was happening and there was no trouble? Where. Did. You. Get. It?

Colin: My buddy.

Darcy: Your buddy?

Colin: Yeah, some dude I'm friends with. He left it at my place.

Darcy: I don't believe you.

Colin: okay...

Darcy: I don't. I don't believe you.

Colin: Well I don't really care. I'm telling you what happened.

Darcy: Your buddy, huh? Who the fuck are you!? I want to know the truth and I want you to open this thing for me! Tell me the combination!

Colin: yo, you're fucking crazy. Here take it. Figure out the fucking combination on your own.

Darcy: What! No! You can't leave... they said very specifically that the man with the suitcase will give you a combination, he has the combination, you need the combination. It may be hard to acquire, but the man with the suitcase will have the answer.

Colin: Unfortunately, I'm the wrong dude.

Darcy: Well who's the right dude?

Colin: Fuck you, man. Take the thing.

Scene 3

Darcy paces the floor of her apartment, the suitcase again in the middle of the room. She tries combination after combination, she goes into hysterics. She tries more combinations. When the scene becomes unbearable, her phone rings.

Darcy: Hello? Hi yeah yeah, oh I... is, wait is this the guy from the street? Dude, where is my sister? I thought I'd be hearing from- where? The Grand stop? Okay, yeah, okay.

Scene 4

Darcy waits on the subway, with the suitcase in her hand. When the Grand stop arrives, she immeditely leaves the car. Craig follows her.

Craig: Darcy?

Darcy: (turns, frightened) what?

Craig: Whatcha got there?

Darcy: This, um, nothing. Leave me alone. How did you know my name?

Craig: You don't know who I am, do you?

Darcy: Well, would I be freaking out and asking you who you are if I knew who you were?

Craig: I'm Dani's fiance.

Darcy: What?

Craig: Dani'-

Darcy: I heard you. Dani doesn't have a fiance. Dani is in trouble. Dani needs whatever is in this suitcase and I don't know how to get it open because I failed. I fucking failed. And now she's in trouble and it's all my fault and when the fuck did she get engaged? And where the fuck is she? What is going on?

Craig: Well, you know how she is...

Darcy: Are you telling me she's okay?

Craig: Oh she is perfectly okay.

Darcy: What's in the suitcase then?

Craig: It's a clue.

Darcy: What kind of clue?

Craig: It's a clue telling me where and when we're getting married.

Darcy: Are you fucking kidding?

Craig: Well you know how much she loves scavenger hunts.

Darcy: Are you FUCKING KIDDING?

Craig: What? What are you so mad about? It's supposed to be fun.

Darcy: Right. Fun. I haven't seen my sister in two years, and the first I hear of her is that I'm supposed to find a man with a suitcase and get the combination from him to open it in order to SAVE HER. Who the fuck was the dude with the suitcase anyway?

Craig: Oh that was my brother.

Darcy: Well why did he act like such a scared weirdo with it?

Craig: Oh well Dani got him involved too. Again, didn't give too many details. She wanted to keep it sorta anonymous and fun, I guess. Plus she kinda always wanted to set you two up.

Darcy: So she's okay?

Craig: Well, hopefully. I mean, she's gonna be pretty pissed if I don't get there in time.

Darcy: That dumb bitch. She had me thinking she was in trouble. Like international fucked up trouble.

Craig: Really this is just her way of asking you to be her maid of honor.

Darcy: I'm going to kill her.

Craig: So I take it you didn't get that suitcase open?

Darcy: No, I did not. I tried every combination relating to her that I could.

Craig: Well did you try my birthday?

Darcy: (blankly stares at him)

Craig: Oh, give me that. (he tries, it works, he opens it to another piece of paper) Oh fuck.

Scene 5

Craig waits on the subway holding the suitcase. He looks around but doesn't look scared like the last two. Colin and Darcy also sit on the train holding hands. The Grand stop comes, Craig looks out and walks off the stop. 

Play 8: probably, one day

Mom?

Yeah?

Can I ask you a question?

Yeah, sure.

Well, did you ever smoke weed when you were a kid?

Hahahahahah etc.

What? What's so funny?

I smoked a shit load of weed.

Really? A shit load?

Yes.

Wow.

Don't say shit load around other people.

Yeah, I know.

Okay good.

Why did you smoke weed?

Hmm. Why.... well cuz I loved it. And back then I wanted to make sure that just in case I became a rapper, that I could hold my own and thus successfully smoke with Snoop Dogg.

Who's Snoop Dogg?

Oh god. You don't remember Snoop Dogg? I am failing as a mother. Speaking of which, why you bringing up weed anyways?

Well I've heard of it a couple of times, and then some kids had some...

The fuck! What kids?

Just some kids.

Gah. Fine. But you guys are wayyy to young for that stuff. I didn't do drugs til I was way older than you. Did you have any?

No.

Really?

Really.

You know I don't really care, man, we can just have a conversation about it.

Right, I just really didn't.

But other kids did.

Yeah.

And what happened?

Not much, really. Coughing. Laughing, I guess... I mean not even like out of the ordinary. Everything was just calm.

Right. And everyone seemed in control, right?

What do you mean in control?

Well, here, do you remember your uncle on halloween?

You mean when he was stumbling and screaming and throwing up all night? I think he stole a lot of my candy, too.

I don't doubt it. Well would you describe him as having control or not having control?

I would say not having control.

Exactly. So your friends this afternoon, control or no control?

Control.

Okay. So, different substances do different things to people's behaviors.

Mom, why do people do drugs?

Why do people do drugs? Ya know, adults do a pretty good job of convincing themselves about a lot of things. They convince themselves that the world is terrible, that they will never get what they want out of life out of life. They limit their brains, their brains become like a ferris wheal or a merry go round, just the same circle over and over. Ya with me so far?

I think so.

Well if we don't constantly make our brains do new things... like go on new adventures, or listen to other people's ideas or talk about your dreams or learn music, your brain starts to change. If our brains just do the same things over and over, they become bored and tired and sure that the only way to make things different or better is by altering the state of reality.

What does altering the state of reality mean?

Altering means changing.

Okay, changing the state of reality...

Well what's reality?

What?

Do you know what reality means?

No. What does it mean?

Oh reality is bullshit!

What?

Don't believe in reality.

So should I want to alter my state of reality?

This is what I was getting at... people use drugs if they're boring and hate their lives and rely on something to change the really really boring lives that they have.

But you said you did a shit load of weed?

Well, dear, I lived in New York City in my early-20s, what do you expect?

I still don't think I quite understand.

Just don't do them. Okay? Not yet. Wait a little bit, and we'll figure it out, alright? In the meantime, I got a little album here called “The Chronic” that I need you to listen to.

What's chronic?

It's weed, honey.

Okay. I love you.

Love you too.

Play 9: the favorite memory

One and Two sit at industrial sewing machines, sewing long pieces of fabric. The fabric becomes nothing but a stitched over piece of fabric and is sewn through the duration of the play.

One: What's your favorite song?

Two: Oh I don't know. What's yours?

One: I don't know.

Two: What's your favorite color?

One: I dunno. I have a couple I guess. Yours?

Two: Same, I suppose.

One: Did you like that movie last night?

Two: It was fine, I guess. You liked it?

One: Didn't really like or dislike it.

Two: Did you happen to read that article about that stuff?

One: I read it.

Two: Did you understand it?

One: I understood it.

Two: Did you like it?

One: Didn't really like or dislike it. Do you have a favorite child?

Two: No. Do you have a favorite season?

One: No. Do you have a favorite fruit?

Two: No. Do you have a favorite Major League Baseball team?

One: No. Do you have a favorite memory?

Two: No. Do you remember your childhood?

One: Huh?

Two: Do you remember your childhood?

One: Oh, not really. Do you?

Two: Not so much.

One: Have you ever had a concussion?

Two: I don't think so. Have you ever had a concussion?

One: Yes.

Two: What?

One: I have had a concussion.

Two: No!

One: It's true.

Two: Do you know what happened?

One: I do.

Two: No!

One: I do. I was on a ladder. I had just left... somewhere and I was with, someone in my family. I had taped a string to my ceiling months before with one glowing star attached to the string. Someone in my family maybe a brother or a sister, I think I had those, had stolen my star. Stolen. Gone. So I had gone for the ladder and I wanted to rip down the string, forget about the string, believe the string was never even attached to the ceiling. And I didn't place it right and I fell. I fell hard. Concussed. That's what all the people said, concussed.

Two: That is a memory.

One: I think that's my favorite memory.

Two: Well how about that.

Play 10: to my beats

This is a poem. The characters alternate. A new poem is forming, btw

I saw where they had been.

Where they walked.

Where they created.

I saw where they drank, smoked, thought, thought, thought

I saw where I thought

Or where I thought I thought

I saw where I sang out

I sang out for Jack for Neal for William for Allen

I wore flowers in my hair

I'm lying

I wore no flowers

I smoked though

Smoked a bunch

I thought

Or, well, I thought I thought

But I kinda just cried

And they asked why I was crying

No they didn't

You're right, no one asked

It kinda felt like home

Noone ever asks me why I'm crying in public here either

But I cried for those boys

Those men, I suppose

Cried cuz they'd seen what I hadn't seen

Cried cuz they'd written what I hadn't written

Cried because I didn't know what I'd seen

And I didn't know what I'd written.

I know they had been angry to be grouped

And then the group disappeared anyway

I know I had been angry to be stuck

And then I got less stuck

But not less angry

I pretended I felt what they probably felt

I pretended I was free like how they were free

I sought a grouping

A categorizing

So I could be angry at it

So I could hate it

I really thought I'd know everything once I saw what they saw

I really thought things would change

I thought I could change

I thought my words would start to really mean something

I gotta get my words to start really meaning something

But the buildings are so high now

and the fences so straight

and the pages so thin

and the spines so flimsy

Noone heard me

Nobody heard me at all

Not as I screamed up the hills

Not as I screamed down the hills

Not as I begged for my buildings

Not as I worked towards comfort

Worked to comatose my brain

Asking the questions

The questions I couldn't forget

Happy now?

Happy now?

Whose will it take?

Whose do you need, dear?

Whose do you need, dear?

Nobody, nobody

Never nope nobody

I reinvented pacifism

I rejuvenated narcissism

I revitalized nihilism

I rewrote racism

I acted out

I acted like I cared

Because I did care

So did they

No matter what they might say

I know they cared

So I care

What they saw, I saw

What they wrote, I wrote

Poetry can be mine

Like it was theirs

Despite the stage

Despite the typos

Despite the love the lack of love the fucking confusion

I didn't want them to know I felt alone

I didn't want them to see loneliness

I didn't want them to see my empty pages

and frankly I didn't want them to see my full pages

They wouldn't let me win

and they wouldn't let me lose

I knew something would mean something at some point

Fragility slashed the tires

Forbearance took no prisoners

I stared blankly

For really no reason at all

I never had no reason

And there I found no reason

The men I sang for could barely hear me

I understood that

Really, barely at all

I mean, maybe none at all.

I mean, of course none at all

I mean, of course it didn't matter if I saw this

Of course it didn't matter where I'd been

Or what I'd seen

Or what I'd smoked

Deception had claws

Now I have claws

But i'm gonna keep them in.

I know I'm supposed to keep them in.

I'm not afraid.

And I'm trying so hard to not be angry.

It's crazy cuz I'm exactly what I want to be

And exactly what I don't

It seemed a lot crazier in my head

Things are always seeming a little different there

Cuz whether I'm over there

Or back here

I play the sponge

And I play the faucet

And I try to pay my dues

and pay my respects

and pay my bills

And it's still never really what I expect

Not really at all

And that's okay, I know

They taught me that, alright 

Play 11: woes

I have to pee.

Then pee.

Where?

Here.

Where here?

You never peed outside?

Like a portapotty?

No, I mean outside

Outside outside?

Like in the woods.

Well we aren't in the woods.

No, I know. But if you can pee in the woods, you can pee in the city.

Um, I don't know how I feel about that...

Have you never peed at a subway stop?

What are you talking about?

You've never, like, snuck behind the signs at the end and peed over there?

Fuck no! I couldn't imagine.

Well, what's a bitch supposed to do on a long ass transfer late at night when she's hammered?

You're sick!

I'm just natural.

Natural.

Yeah, man. I grew up in the country... fancy bathrooms with attendants and little mints are not always available.

So you just learned to pee anywhere?

I mean, I'm not an animal. I don't just pee anywhere...

But-

But I do what I have to do, yeah.

That's kinda gross.

Sure. But is it grosser than being violently uncomfortable?

I suppose not.

I like to think of it like a metaphor.

Okay...

I mean, think about it. There are women who will pee in public and there are women who won't. Every dude in the world will pee in public. Think about that.

Well, yeah, cuz it's easier.

And why is it easier?

Cuz they have penises?

Exactly.

Is that a metaphor for something too?

Of course. It's like we haven't been punished enough in this world for not having penises, now we're expected to not utilize our surroundings too just because we are dick-less? No way. I don't play like that.

So you pee in public as some sort of rebellion against what, man?

No, no, no. I pee in public only if I absolutely need to pee. I'm not gonna let my womanhood stop me. If I want to rebel against the man, I'll pee in a dude's beer.

What?

Ya heard.

No.

Gurl, you work with and around upstanding normal humans. I work in a goddamn bar. The freaks I have to deal with...

You've never peed in someone's beer.

Alright. All I'm saying is... pee if you have to. And don't piss off your bartenders. Ah, ah, ah. No puns. Please.

Play 12: burn baby burn

Jon and Jack stand around a barrel where a fire burns.

Jon: What we got today?

Jack: 50s

Jon: Really?

Jack: Yup. Why?

Jon: Don't look like 50s.

Jack: Well it is.

Jon: Huh.

Silence

Jon: Where'd they come from?

Jack: What?

Jon: The 50s

Jack: Down the road

Jon: Whatchu mean?

Jack: The old Baylor house.

Jon: You get em?

Jack: Nah one of the others.

Jon: Huh.

Silence

Jon: So are you-

Jack: What's your deal today?

Jon: Whatchu mean?

Jack: What's up with all the goddamn questions?

Jon: Just being curious, I guess.

Jack: Well, fuck you.

Jon: Oh, I uh-

Jack: Nah, really, just fuck you.

Jon: K.

Silence

Jon: It's just that 50s usually burn a certain way...

Jack: You have something to say?

Jon: What?

Jack: Say what you have to say.

Jon: Don't gotta get hostel, man, I'm just observing.

Jack: Well it seems you got something to say about this.

Jon: I said what I have to say. 50s burn a certain way and these ain't really burning like 50s.

Jack: So what?

Jon: So what nothing. I don't why you are fucking flipping unless YOU have something to say.

Jack: I don't got nothing to say.

Jon: Alright then.

Silence

Jack: Okay, they ain't 50s.

Jon: Hm?

Jack: Oh don't make me say it again.

Jon: Not 50s.

Jack: Yeah.

Jon: Like I said.

Jack: Yeah.

Jon: Why you lying?

Jack: I wasn't lying, per say.

Jon: I said what are we burning, you said 50s, I said these don't look like no 50s, you say they ain't 50s. Where I come from, that's lying.

Jack: Well, I guess.

Jon: No guess. Why you lying?

Jack: Can you keep a secret?

Jon: For you? Hell no.

Jack: What?

Jon: I don't never tell people I'll keep their secrets. I ain't a nark, I ain't a gossip... but I don't like that kind of pressure. People gonna tell you what they want regardless.

Jack: Well, can I tell you something, then?

Jon: Of course.

Jack: Pile of ones.

Jon: Ones today?

Jack: Just ones.

Jon: Okay.

Jack: Great, do I feel better.

Jon: You feel better.

Jack: Getting that off my chest.

Jon: You ain't got shit off your chest.

Jack: What'dya mean?

Jon: Whatever man. Burn your ones.

Jack: Already happening.

Jon: K.

Silence

Jack: The ones are from the Baylor house.

Jon: Great.

Jack: There were some-some-

Jon: I don't care

Jack: Some 50s there, if you have to know.

Jon: I didn't ask.

Jack: There were a lot of 50s there, actually.

Jon: Okay...

Jack: And I just, I just

Jon: You definitely didn't just burn them.

Jack: I just kinda started getting nostalgic, ya know.

Jon: For the 50s?

Jack: Didn't your grandpa or anyone ever talk to you about this stuff?

Jon: Ya know, even when my grandparents were around, it had all been turned to plastic

Jack: Oh already?

Jon: I ain't never had any experience with the paper beyond these barrels

Jack: Damn.

Jon: Cuz that plastic turned to passwords turned to well you know the story

Jack: Hard to believe a time when it wasn't just our veins.

Jon: Hard to believe you could just all out and hold it. Just carry it over to your buddy. Just clear a debt.

Jack: Wasn't so so long back.

Jon: So you're saying you kept them 50s, huh?

Jack: Yeah. Yeah I did. : I just think of the struggle, though, really... when it was so tactile. So real like.

Jon: Sounds like a goddamn hassle. A weight, almost.

Jack: Of course. Haven't you ever read the books? Seen the shows? Heard the songs?

Jon: Used to be an obsession.

Jack: An absolute obsession.

Jon: I'm glad them days are gone.

Jack: Ya know, I suppose I am too.

Jon: So whatchu gonna do with all those 50s? Frame em? Hold out for the past to return?

Jack: Well... burn em I guess.

Play 13: on parade

I am a woman and I am pregnant.

I am a man and I am not pregnant.

I am a woman and I am not pregnant.

I am a man and we're, we're pregnant.

I am a woman and I am encouraged to tread lightly.

I am a man and I am encouraged to hold my ground.

I am a woman and I am encouraged to shut the fuck up.

I am a man and I am encouraged, I am supported.

Can you?

Yup

And will you

Nah

But if I

Nah

Oh please though

Nah

Even if

Just

If I

Just

Just what

Just stop, dear

But wh-

It's truly not very flattering

I am a woman and I am pregnant. I am on parade. No I am the parade. This thing will sit in there, until it sits no more. Then no more sitting then just walking then running then moving moving moving. Done with nutrients, I forgot about nutrients, I lay alone in the bathtub with a bottle of wine, a quiet quiet house like I'd never even been there, like they'd never even been there.

You promised.

Yes, I did.

And now?

Breaking the promise.

You can't...

I can.

No you ca-

I can.

So you'll just... forget about before.

About when?

About before!

Remind me...

Oh my god

Guess I win.

You win.

I win.

And what about me?

About who?

ME ME ME

My, um, apologies?

I am a man and I am not pregnant. I don't have babies, I make babies. I make hits. I make solutions. Won't take any questions, won't take any comments, won't take any concerns. I'm not worried, ya see. I don't worry. I am the alpha, the end all, the fucking shit, yo. No one questions me and that's how I like it.

Didn't you ever ask the question?

I asked.

Didn't you ever display all the answers?

I would say I displayed.

Then what's the problem?

Who says there's a problem.

You're just acting like there's a problem.

That's just how I act.

I am a woman and I am not pregnant. And I never have been. And I never will be. And I never have been. And I never will be. How do I feel? Wow. How do I feel... Not full not empty. Never full never empty. And not really anything in between. Like a glass of water no one argues about.

I'm a success.

And what do you mean?

Didn't you hear?

Hear what?

That I'm a success.

Right.

Don't be jealous...

Do I seem jealous?

Everyone seems-

Do you think I'm everyone?

How do you mean?

Simple question. Do I look like everyone? Do I seem like everyone? Do you think I'm everyone?

Don't get pissed.

You really don't get it, do you?

I'm a success.

I am a man and we're, we're pregnant. I watched it all. The full full full, the barren so empty. I didn't know how to feel bad because I'd always felt so good. It really was hard to sympathize. I never quite grasped sympathizing. It's not like anyone ever felt sorry for me. No, I'm sorry. That's wrong. It's hard...we're making it through. We're gonna be just fine. He's big and strong and healthy.

WHY CAN'T YOU

STOP SCREAMING AT ME

I DON'T SEE WHY-

YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE WHY

HOW DO YOU KNOW

BECAUSE I KNOW YOU

NO YOU DON'T

RIGHT

YOU DON'T

WELL THEN GIVE IT BACK

GIVE WHAT BACK

IT'S MINE TOO

GIVE IT BACK? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING?

IT'S MINE TOO

IT NEVER BELONGED TO YOU. IT WILL NEVER BELONG TO YOU.

Why are you like this?

I told you you don't know me.

And what the fuck do I do with that?

No really my problem.

I am a woman and I am pregnant.

I am a man and I am not pregnant.

I am a woman and I am not pregnant.

I am a man and we're, we're pregnant.

I am a woman and I am encouraged to tread lightly.

I am a man and I am encouraged to hold my ground.

I am a woman and I am encouraged to shut the fuck up.

I am a man and I am encouraged, I am supported.

Play 14: the ferris wheel

What's different?

Eyebrows.

What happened?

Changed them.

Why?

Needed change.

Why?

I'm a ferris wheel.

A ferris wheel?

A ferris wheel. Minimally exciting, incessantly repeating.

Bleak.

Part of my charm.

But why the eyebrows?

You have a better idea?

Have you done the trick? Successful in becoming... um, not a ferris wheel?

I don't know yet.

Ya know, I don't think you're a ferris wheel.

Oh no?

No I think you're the Scrambler.

No!

I think so.

I think that's mean.

What? Why?

Well, I've definitely had days where I thought my brain was the Scrambler. And those days were... not the best days.

But me thinking you're the Scrambler is different than you have a day where your brain is the Scrambler.

I guess. I think I'm just a ferris wheel.

What about a Silly Slide?

No.

Ooooh the Zipper!?

You do not think I'm the Zipper.

Maybe not. But seriously, those eyebrows!

You think I'm ugly.

No!

Yes you do. And I am. You're right. I'm like a leftover ferris wheel from a fair in Oklahoma or Nebraska or somewhere gross. I'm no Navy Pier or even Coney Island.

You are too a Navy Pier!

Not with these eyebrows.

What is it you want?

I just want to lay down and sleep forever.

No. Listen to me. What is it you want?

From you? Nothing. Just sit. Or leave, whatever.

Why do you always do this?

Do what?

I want to help.

I don't need your help.

You said you were better.

Well, I'm not. I lied. I'm not better. So, so, are you helping, now? Do you feel really great?

What do you want?

I want to break down.

What?

I want the ferris wheel to break down.

No you don't.

Yes I do.

Why don't you just become not a ferris wheel?

Cuz I am a ferris wheel! That is what I am. And when you are something, you can't just change what that thing is. You can just alter it. And the best alteration of a ferris wheel is a broken ferris wheel. So that's what I'll be.

What are the eyebrows?

New seats.

And isn't that positive?

But I hate the new seats.

And what else do you hate?

Everything, basically.

Well what about the view?

What view?

The view from the top.

It's-

It's nice, right?

Yeah you can see for miles.

And what about the music?

The music?

I know you aren't gonna let some shitty music be playing during the ride.

Well, no, obviously not.

And the seats...

What about them?

Well, I think they look really nice.

You do?

I do.

I don't need help, you know.

Yes, you do.

No I-

Yes, you do. And that's okay baby. I'm here for the ride.

Play 15: thursday night

She and He in her apartment, arguing. There is a dankness, a haze, a gloom to the scene.

He: Why not? Are you scared, are you scared, are you scared?

She: Scared isn't the word.

He: You're not gonna get in troublllle, ya know... this is New York City.

She: I don't care about that.

He: Then what's the problem? Don't you trust me?

She: First of all, no. I don't trust you.

He: Excuse me?

She: I don't trust anyone. Far more important to this situation, though, is that I don't trust me.

He: How do you mean? And the fuck you mean you don't trust me...

She: I don't trust anyone. Especially addicts. Sorry. I love you, I just don't trust you.

He: I'm not an addict! I'm a-

She: I don't care what you call yourself. You should just know that shit's not for me.

He: How do you know? You've never even tried it.

She: But I know what's going on up here. Well, sorta. Enough to know I gotta say know.

He: I just don't get it... what is it you're so nervous about?

She: Brain.

He: What about it?

She: I don't trust it.

He: You don't trust your brain.

She: Not at all.

He: This shit doesn't make you crazy.

She: Hahahaha

He: What? It doesn't.

She: Hahahaha

He: Why are you laughing like that?

She: How are you gonna tell a person on the edge of madness what will make them crazy and not crazy?

He: Are you on the edge of madness?

She: Well I don't know! That's what I'm worried about.

He: Well, come on, you know the ol' catch 22...

She: Yeah, if you think you're crazy then clearly you have enough wits about you to realize something's wrong, so therefore you can't be crazy.

He: Exactly. So you're fine.

She: But I've been battling with myself the question of how many people can tell you you're crazy before you have to believe them.

He: Nobody really thinks you're crazy, you're like wacky... not like scary crazy.

She: But where do we draw the line, really?

He: Harm, I guess.

She: Harm?

He: Yeah.

She: Um, okay.

He: What?

She: Nothing.

He: Are you okay? You said you were better.

She: I just don't want the drugs, okay?

He: I'm not gonna make you, shit. I was just offering. Thought it would be fun. And then you naturally have to get all crazy about it....

She: Ah ah ah! So there. There you fucking go.

He: I'm not calling you crazy, I'm just saying-

She: No. Nope. Tell me, then, oh sane one. Tell me how to get fixed.

He: Come on, I just meant,

She: No, please, seriously. Addictive substances? Really? You really think that's what's best for me?

He: I just wanted to have a fucking fun night. I didn't want to play this game over and over with you.

She: Then don't. Don't play. DON'T PLAY. I'm not in need, ya know. I don't need this. I don't need you. I'm not in need. I'm not in need. I don't need anything. I don't need anyone. I don't. I don't. I don't. Etc. etc.

Lights change as she continues to rant/flip out. She finally calms. She looks around, finally checking her phone. She dials.

She: Hey baby, where'd you go? You what? Where? Right yeah right, yeah I don't know what I said where'd you go? Haha I mean where are you? Haha... No yeah, you can come over later, that's fine. Yeah, um, I I'd love to see you. Great. Great. Yeah, love you too.

She takes a minute. She looks around. She smokes, she snorts... she rocks back and forth and back and forth. 

Play 16: AMIRIGHT

I have thoughts

so do I

yeah me too

They whirl

round and round and round

a mess

oh yeah

completely

mess

anyways

it's just anyway

regardless of all that

isn't it irregardless?

Don't regardless and irregardless mean that same thing?

That literally makes no sense.

I know.

But it's true!

I know!

So, when I was playing sports as a kid, I used to get in trouble because i'd always be calling timeout

“That's the coach's job!” They'd yell.

I didn't really think that was fair.

Cuz sometimes I needed some god damn time.

I never thought it was too much to ask.

They did, though.

I got in a lot of trouble.

Getting in trouble playing sports is about the silliest thing I ever encountered.

I think that probably affected me.

I am rather affected.

I've got these thoughts, remember.

Oh the thoughts.

They can't just be from sour sports memories, though.

Oh no way.

Layers on layers

on layer on layers

I started yelling cuz I didn't think this was a play

FUCK THIS

I didn't get it

No they didn't get it

FUCK THIS

A rising action, I suppose?

My whole life, my yelling always seemed a little unwarranted.

And if I thought that-

I couldn't imagine what they thought.

But shit was going down

FUCK THIS

and I wasn't an artist anymore

cuz I wasn't an artist to begin with

and I was consumed with consumption

or one of those things

I shoulda been consumed with

Then I said

WAIT

SETTLE DOWN

you really don't have to do this

you can be like the rest

The time is now

Isn't that what they always say?

The time is now.

Carpe diem.

(sung) No day but today

When I moved to a new school in 3^rd grade, I told everyone I moved from Neptune

And the real problem is

I'm still pretty convinced

I mean maybe not Neptune

but I'm not settling right, I'm not “fitting in”

And that's alright I think

I shuddered to think

that I was involved in a monologue

I'd seen my share of bullshit

and had worked pretty hard to remain a spectator

But ya win some, ya lose some

AMIRIGHT?

Play 17: music trivia

Fuck yes, I love this song.

How can you tell what it is already?

You don't know this song?

No, I don't think so.

But you know Big Boi, though?

Nope.

What? Do you know who Andre 3000 is?

Nope.

Do you know who RZA is?

No.

Do you know who GZA is?

Uh-uh.

Do you know who ODB is?

No.

How about ASAP Rocky?

No.

Kendrick Lamar?

No.

KRS One?

Nah.

Tribe Called Quest?

Never heard of him.

Bone Thugs N Harmony?

Um...

2PAC? BIGGIE? EMINEM? KANYE WEST? JAY-Z? SNOOP DOGG DO YOU AT LEAST KNOW SNOOP DOGG?

Isn't he called Snoop Lion now?

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH. 

Play 18: keys open doors

What's it called?

What?

The door.

What's the door called?

Yeah.

It's called the door.

It's so elegant, though.

How do you mean?

It seems so elegant to me.

It's a door.

Yeah...

I just don't see how this inanimate door can seem elegant.

Really?

Really.

Huh. Are you, um, in charge around here?

Oh me? No no no.

Oh okay.

Why do you ask?

Oh um, no reason, really

No tell me. It's really better if you're honest here. As a general rule.

Oh, um, well thank you, first of all. I guess, I guess I just would hope that the um, someone in charge here, of all places, would like, get what I was talking about if I were to say, describe the doors as elegant.

I see.

I don't mean to be rude, it's just...

Oh no. No, I get it. Everyone has their um, delusions, no let's call them ideas about it here. It's really okay. I'm not insulted.

I really meant that I always imagined...

Yes dear, I know. I understand. That's what I'm saying, there's always imaginations, dreams, visions, assumptions made, I expect that. And i'm telling you, it's best to drop all that, get rid of it. If more people listened to this advice, that and the honesty advice, their um, experiences here would be a whole lot better.

What do you mean? Do most people have a bad experience?

Well, yeah, yeah I'd say mostly they do.

Ya know, I didn't even really mean to come here today, I just, well I guess I could just go. I didn't mean to insult you, or start anything, I mean really I can just go now, I'll just go.

Oh dear.

What?

You don't get it.

Don't get what?

This whole thing. Oh dear.

Well, how would I? Seriously, it's whatever. I'll just go.

Honey, you can't just go.

Why not?

You're through the doors.

So what?

Well, you're not going out em. Not now. No matter how elegant they are.

I don't understand.

Here, I believe there's someone waiting for you.

He takes her to the next room to meet The Man

You maaaaaaade it.

I made it.

Welcome.

Thank you. Those doors are beautiful by the way. What's it called?

Ophelia. Elegant, don't you think?

Oh my god, yes! Bleak, but elegant.

So, what-

I need to figure out how to make my life go in and out doors like that.

This is why you came?

Well, I guess I didn't realize that until right now, but yes. Yes that's why I came.

That's what you're going with?

My life needs to go in and out elegant doors. Yes. Yes.

Alright...

Is that a weird one? I don't know. I don't really know how this place works, I just, I'm all nervous now cuz like of that door and cuz you're doorman said everyone suffers here or something like that and I'm so nervous, I'm just trying to be open and honest, not usually how I am but usually if I get going I can really just get it all out at once.

That so? Did you do it?

No, no, not at all.

More?

Yes. I haven't been near a door like that in ages. I'm always cooped in, searching for the knob, finding that the door doesn't even open open, it slides. The nice ones are always locked and the ones that aren't are so so open that i'm just not even interested. I've been studying bells, I've been studying knockers, I've been studying keys. Oh have I studied keys.

What does that key go to?

What key?

Around your neck.

Um...

Yes?

I, I'd really rather not say.

Did you not speak with Albert at the door?

I did.

Okay...

So. So I should say, shouldn't I?

The man gives excellent advice.

It's to a trunk.

What kind?

An old old trunk.

Your trunk?

No, it's, it's, it's the trunk where my truth lives.

Give me that key.

What?

Give me the key.

I don't think that's going to happen.

Why did you come here?

I...

Why did you come here?

So I could go through-

Doors. So you could go through doors.

Elegant doors.

What are you without doors?

What am I?

What are you without doors? Without the knobs? Without the keys?

I'm, I'm, I'm simple. Normal.

And what's wrong with that?

Everything. Absolutely everything. I'm already painfully close when I look at my doors, when I look at the doors I've really known, really studied, really had the chance to go through. Sometimes I go through my statistics, I feel so painfully inadequate. I feel like everyone I know has gone through the most exquisite doors, just stunning, painfully stunning I would say, and I just stand behind, watching, observing, and twisting and pushing some sort of plain fucking plywood bullshit. I was scared of the really nice doors, like the truly elegant ones, like the one into here, I was scared for a long long time. Until I realized everyone who didn't even have a brain was going through the most beautiful doors. And I was like, I've spend all this time not going through beautiful doors and now I feel like i'm getting older and I've experienced so few really truly beautiful doors that now I'm so behind that there's no way I can catch up, like in some ways I don't even think I should be going through them. Until I realize that that's bullshit. Which is why I got that trunk I have in the first place, cuz before that I had to carry everything along with me, and as I was searching for doors sometimes I would find one that I thought was really perfect, and i'd realize I was just carrying too much, I wasn't gonna make it through. And even if I could struggle through the archway, i'd be a fucking mess when I got through. It was all just too much. So just yesterday, I found a trunk, an amazing trunk really, and I knew I could fill it and lock it up and then, boom, today I find this place. I'm not stupid, ya know, I'm not naiive and I'm not afraid. I just... I just, need some help. I was under the impression I could get some help here, it really felt that way when I walked through. And did you notice? I just walked right through. No problems. And i've tried to real and I tried to be honest but I can't let you have this key and if you can't ya know, give me other keys or something, I dunno, I guess I should probably just go.

Give me that key.

No.

Come on.

Didn't you listen to me? I need it!

No, you don't.

I need it.

Then go.

What?

Go then.

But I didn't get a chance to-

I don't care.

Come on. I was just so fucking open. I was honest. I was what I was supposed to be. What is the problem?

Can't you hear yourself?

What?

“I was what I was supposed to be.” Do you not see any problem with that?

What? I followed the advice, why are you making this so hard on me?

You really, just, you just really aren't ready.

Ready? Ready for what?

For the doors, sweetie.

I don't get it!

You should probably just go.

I, I, I-

Really, dear. Just go.

She exits the way she came in, but when she gets to the elegant doors to leave, she can't seem to get through the door. No matter what way she tries, she can't go, can't fit, can't seem to make it out. She turns around outraged, as The Man slowly comes out of the shadows. He holds out his hand. She slowly takes the key off her neck and puts it in his hand. A huge noise. The walls have become rows of amazing elegant doors. She stares at The Man. She slowly turns all around her and starts to cry. Lights fade.

Play 19: dried out

The well's kicked.

Kicked?

Kicked.

Kicked?

Run dry. Empty. Over with. Done for.

No more well?

Well's still there. No more water.

No more water?

No more water.

Kicked.

Yup. Kicked.

So...

Now before you freak out, let me assure you. We should be okay.

Should be?

Should be.

And if we're not-

Should be fine.

Stop saying should be fine. Are we going to be fine or not fine?

Should be fine.

AHHH!

Well I don't know exactly yet.

Do you have a plan?

A plan?

Yeah, a plan.

For...

Water, dumbass.

Oh excuse me. No. I do not have a plan. Do YOU have a plan?

Well I didn't know the well was kicked.

Well I didn't either until thirty seconds ago.

But you weren't planning for this?

Who plans for this?

Well you have to know it wasn't going to last forever.

Did you know?

Of course I knew it wouldn't last forever.

But you didn't come up with a plan?

A plan?

Yes, a plan!

Well, no.

You thought that was my job?

Well I kinda was hoping I wouldn't see the day.

The day the well went dry.

Today.

Today.

Did we pump it at all?

Once it's reached this point, can't really pump it anymore.

Whyyyy doesn't it just last?

Well that's a stupid question.

Is it?

You already know the answer.

That nothing lasts forever?

Specifically a really old well.

Couldn't we call someone?

Call who?

I don't know, a well guy?

All those guys run scams.

Really?

Of course.

So what do we do?

I dunno.

What do we do?

I don't know.

HOLY SHIT WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?

Holy shit, calm the fuck down.

I just, just can't deal with stuff like this.

I know.

If you know then why did you tell me?

Cuz we're kinda in this together.

...right.

So let's just think.

Okay.

What are you thinking?

Fuck the well is dry fuck the well is dry fuck the well is dry

Try something else

You're right. Okay.

Whatcha got?

I'M SO FUCKING THIRSTY.

Right.

FUCK FUCK FUCK.

Okay, I'm out. I'm bailing on this shit.

Wait, what?

I'm bailing. You're freaking out. I can't handle it.

I thought we were in this together.

Well, I said that to be nice, kinda help you along.

But-

But, let's be honest. It's your well. I got some other options.

You do?

Of course.

Well, what am I supposed to do?

Really, really, not my problem.

Oh my god.

What?

Are you really doing this to me?

I tried to help, you freaked out. When people freak out, I gotta bail. I don't have it in me to deal with that kinda shit anymore.

No, I'll be calm. I'll be so calm. I'm the calmest human alive, I promise.

Too late.

Come on.

Sorry, dear.

But, I, I,

I suggest you look for a new well.

But this is the only one I've ever known.

Hence why I said new.

Don't leave me.

I said, I'll stay if she's relaxed and thinks logically.

I'M RELAXED, I CAN THINK LOGICALLY.

No you can't.

YES I CA-

Stop yelling. Chill out. Find a new well.

But without this well, I can't really, can't um, can't

I know.

And you're still gonna go?

Yeah.

But-

Just try. Okay? Just try. 

Play 20: please keep digging

The archeologist: Are you digging?

Her beloved: Of course I'm digging.

Promise.

Always.

Even when I tell you to stop.

Always.

Promise.

I will dig. I promise.

You understand why, right?

I understand.

You promise?

I promise.

I must ask-

Yes?

What are you asking of me?

Of you?

Yes.

Let me keep digging.

What else?

That's all.

That doesn't seem fair.

Why?

You have to keep digging, and you have to keep digging, and all I have to do is let you dig? That doesn't seem fair.

There's nothing else I want.

Nothing?

Nothing.

You promise?

I promise. But I do have one questions... have you picked a favorite?

This again?

Have you?

Well, yes, perhaps.

Perhaps?

You're right, that's no way to treat a favorite. Fine, yes.

Tell me why it's your favorite first.

Why?

Yes always why before what.

Okay. It's my favorite because it's free.

Free?

Free.

What else?

Fragile but not. Wild but not. Everything and then some and then less and less. Careful and confident and interesting, so interesting.

Did you pick the pterodactyl?

How did you guess that?

You know pterodactyls aren't actually dinosaurs, right?

No.

Really. Fairly new research shows they were always birds.

Fuck.

I love you anyway.

Please keep digging.

I will.

Please, even when I tell you to stop.

I will. 

Play 21: smoke em if you got em

One takes out a fresh pack of cigarettes. Packs them, opens them, lights one.

Two sees this, approaches One.

Hey man, can I uh, bum one of those?

One of what?

Your cigarettes.

What do you want?

To bum a cigarette.

Oh, I can't really-

I'll buy it. Here, ya want a dollar?

I really can't spare it, man.

What?

I just, don't really have any to spare.

I just watched you open a new pack.

And?

I just watched you open brand new pack of cigarettes. How are you gonna tell me you can't spare one? For a dollar? I'm not some homeless bum, I just would like to bum a cigarette.

Right.

Right what?

I don't know man, what do you want from me?

I just wanted a cigarette. But really, forget it.

Is there something wrong, dude?

What the fuck kind of smoker are you?

Um,

I mean, really. Who won't even let someone buy one off them? Don't you know like, etiquette? What the fuck, man.

Wow. I didn't realize this would upset you so much. Here, really, here. Fine.

One gives Two a cigarette in a very slow and deliberate manner.

Um, thanks.

Two lights the cigarette.

So um, that dollar?

Are you fucking serious?

I mean, I would never ask, but you did offer...

Fucking fine, man. Here.

Cool. Thanks. You know these thins are like, mad bad for you, right?

Go away.

What?

Go. 

Play 22: she heard the echoes, she heard them all

She swings on a swing downstage. The Others swing on three swings upstage. It's a back and forth, it's an ebb and flow.

I was once a beginner.

She was a newbie.

A novice.

A n00b.

I didn't mind.

She didn't mind.

She was careless.

She was carefree.

I practiced though.

Oh, did she practice.

Hours and hours.

Hours on end.

I committed.

She fucking went for it.

In it to win it.

The real deal.

It got harder and easier.

It was a long road.

She fell, she got up.

She struggled, she persevered.

I looked for the better. I would be better.

She searched.

She relentlessly searched.

She would be better.

And I was. I was what it takes.

She had it.

She found it.

She held onto it.

I finally had it. I held onto it.

Until

Until

Until

Things happen really quick.

Rapid.

BOOOOM.

Lightning fast.

I'd never called myself the best.

She wasn't the best.

Good, not great.

Very very good, not the best.

But just like that, I was back where I started.

Lightning fast.

BOOOM.

Rapid.

I was a beginner.

A newbie.

A novice.

A n00b.

I cried.

She cried.

Wept.

Sobbed.

Until I didn't. And then.

And then.

Then.

Then.

I started over again.

A newbie.

A novice.

A n00b.

Fuck it, I said. I know what to do.

They swing and swing.

Play 23: don't say a word

What did it look like?

It was big.

And what did it sound like?

It was loud.

And what did it smell like?

It was gross.

And what did it act like?

It was weird.

And how did you feel?

It was fine.

No, no, but how did you feel?

It was fine.

I'm not sure you're understanding the question. Um, let's try this. Are you scared?

No.

Are you angry?

No.

Are you worried?

No.

What are you feeling?

It was fine.

Would you like to leave?

No.

Would you like me to leave?

No.

Why won't you talk to me?

This is talking.

You know what I mean.

No.

What happened?

No.

What is making you like this?

No.

What happened?

No.

You know you can tell me.

No.

I can help you.

No.

I can.

I don't need help.

I think you do.

No.

Come on.

NO.

Yes.

NO.

Come on.

NO. NO. NO. I DON'T NEED YOU.

WHAT HAPPENED?

NOTHING HAPPENED.

SOMETHING OBVIOUSLY HAPPENED.

YES. FINE. SOMETHING HAPPENED. AND IT WAS TERRIBLE. It was a horrendous experience. Horrendous. Okay, are you happy?

Telling me it was horrendous is not telling me what happened.

Right.

Let me help you.

I. Don't. Want. Your. Help.

That's really mean.

Listen. You don't want to know. You think you want to know, but you don't want to know.

No, I really do wan-

Right. You want information for your own sake. You want to know so that you know. Feel like you're involved. Like you're an insider.

I wanted to be a friend.

Well, you failed.

That's really mean.

I know.

Play 24: solid as a

I got you this.

This?

Yeah.

This rock?

Yeah.

Um, thanks.

You like it?

This rock? Sure.

Feel how smooth it is?

Yeah...

And if you look real close there's a line of silver running through it.

Right.

You like it?

Yes. Where'd you get it?

I found it.

And thought, ya know what I'll do? I'll give it away.

You don't like it.

No, I like it.

You're lying.

No, I'm not. I just don't quite understand.

Why I'd give you a rock?

Right.

Well, I found it and I thought it was beautiful and I was like, she'll really like this.

That was your exact thought progression?

Kinda, yeah.

Alright.

Is that weird?

Why was it that you thought I'd like it?

You don't like it.

Yes. I do. I want to know why you thought I'd like it?

Well, remember that time we were on the train out to Jersey or something and we passed by that farm and you started crying?

Yeah I remember.

And I couldn't understand why you were crying and you didn't really give me an answer as to why you were crying so I just kinda sat there and stared at you.

Right.

And you wouldn't answer any questions and you would explain anything which really just made me feel worse and worse and worse until then you kinda held onto the side of the seat for a little while, like holding really tightly, and then you kinda shook your head and stopped crying and carried on with the rest of the trip. Never talked about it again. And I honestly started getting so jealous of the armrest on the seat, like why did that armrest somehow get to share in what you had going on, why was the armrest more deserving than me? No, just wait.. let me finish. And I thought about this a lot, becoming various amounts of jealous, angry, depressed... thinking over and over, why couldn't I help? Why didn't she want my help? And I never said anything cuz it was such a small moment, I didn't want you to know then how crazy it had been making me... how crazy it kinda still makes me. Until I realized that you were the type of person that couldn't always explain why you were crying, the type of person that sometimes just needed to be alone or to solve her problems by gripping onto something separate from herself, something solid and ultimately unrelated. And no matter how badly I wanted to help then or really all the other times... that sometimes I'm not the answer. Sometimes you just need something to grip onto. So, I thought that maybe if you understood this about me and about how I kinda um think about you, that this rock could be a sort of well... I mean, you know and my life really has never been the same since you-

Holy shit are you gonna propose?

What?

Oh my god I just got really nervous you were gonna propose.

It's um, a rock.

Right.

Yeah, I'm not proposing with that rock.

Right. Oh man, I'm so sorry.

I always kinda thought I'd buy like a ring or something...

Right, yeah. Holy shit. I'm so sorry. Uh, continue?

I'm kinda done...

I love you.

Yeah. That's all I'm saying... if you hate the rock, I-

No, I like the rock. I love the rock.

Okay. Love you too.

I don't mean to be crazy, you know.

No one ever means to be crazy.

I won't set this down.

That rock?

This rock.

Really?

Really. 

Play 25: new for today

I said my body hurts.

Ransacked

Beaten

And forgotten

I said I said I said

shoved

pushed

pushed and shoved

and forgotten

I thought I would find the time

the time that dissolved

the time that disappeared

this next time

the next time coming up

tomorrow, yeah

next week, yeah

a push and a shove

and procrastination reimagined

I was lifestyle

through corruption

I was revamped

pressure's on

frantic as before

laden with the same weight

numbers on numbers

equations on equations

I was still in pain

a plague, really

innumerable disturbances

restless absolutely

crazed like the rest

the rest that flounder and flounder

asking questions

similar questions

to the others

who asked

similar questions

I said my body hurt

the complaint was heard

the complaint was barely heard

the clock read a new time

well new for today.

Play 26: dancin in the street

All characters dance.

I have created the world for dancing. Dancing is the norm, the end all, the acceptable form of, of everything. This is the world I know. This is the world I made. I am not afraid of the other world, I am no longer even disgusted with the others. I chasse, I pas de bourree, I tango, I tap, I waltz, I groove, I move, I dip, I dip, I dip.

We live here.

Yes, we do.

It's not the life we imagined.

No, not at all.

We dreamt of a world of reading.

We want to read.

We seek to read.

But all we do is dance.

We dreamt of a world of snowboarding.

We want to snowboard.

We seek to snowboard.

But all we do is dance.

We dreamt of a world of dreaming.

We want to dream.

We seek to dream.

But all we do is dance.

We try to ask.

It usually goes like this.

May we-

Dance?

No, I was going to say-

No.

But

No.

But

No. Now dance.

So we dance.

We've had many of these

These... “conversations”

Until we all decided to stop dancing.

They stop dancing.

We just stopped.

And we yelled

WHY WHYYYYYYY WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

WHY WHAT? WHY AREN'T YOU DANCING? GREAT QUESTION. DANCE.

WHYYYYYYYYYY

we continued

WHYYYYYYYYYY

She stopped too

She stops dancing.

But only for a second

And we saw a look in her

A look that we did not understand

Because we had lived our whole life

On the dancing planet.

So we couldn't understand.

Dancing was all we knew.

I had never thought about it before,

But she might have known another planet.

And if she did

maybe she knew something we didn't know.

So we saw the look

the look we didn't understand

and we froze

and she unfroze

and she

She dances. Hard. Intensely. Frenzied. She collapses. For the first time, there is no motion.

We waited.

We were really scared.

We no longer wanted.

We no longer sought.

We kinda just stared for a while.

Until

One member starts dancing again. The others join in. Finally, she rises and looks around. She starts crying. And dancing. Dancing and crying. They all smile and dance together. 

Play 27: i guess it's back, holy shit it's back

On a date.

So what is it you said you did?

Well, I used to be a poet.

Used to be?

Yeah, I used to be a poet.

What happened?

Um

Where'd it go?

Where'd what go?

The poetry...Where'd it go?

Um

If you used to be a poet and aren't a poet anymore, it means the poetry went somewhere, right?

I mean, right, I guess.

Well?

Um, let me think.

That far, huh?

Well,

If you can't say right away... I'd say that's pretty far.

I mean, yeah, yeah, I guess. Far and wide. Lots of places. It went to brunch, then to church, then the hardware store, the park, Disney World, then Charleston, South Carolina, then Rome then Paris then London then heaven then purgatory then hell.

And you weren't there?

I was talking about my poetry.

Right, well it kinda seems like you were there

I mean, I kinda was.

So you were together?

Well I would hardly call it together....

Same place but separate?

Same place but separate. Just no longer... codependent, I guess. Wow, um, we don't have to talk about this anymore. I'm so sorry.

Why are you sorry?

I just didn't mean to, ya know, lay all that kinda stuff on you... I can be um normal now if you want. So you work in what was it? Finance?

I don't work.

What do you mean?

I don't believe in it.

You don't believe in work?

Right.

So, uh, I don't mean to be rude but where do you get money?

Why is that always the next question? How did we go from an analysis of your consciousness-

An analysis of my consciousness? I barely know you!

And what does THAT even mean? We had just discovered that you and your poetry separated because you were no longer codependent... that seems kinda big to me! And intriguing. A conversation I'd never had before. And two seconds later, you want to know where I get money from! Doesn't that bother you? Maybe if you were a little more dependent still, you would understand!

If I were a little more dependent? Well ex-fucking-cuse me. Wanna know why I changed the subject? Because I'm a professional weirded outer.

But I asked you the questions!

People ask a lot of questions they don't want the answers to. And fine, if you really want to know... the dependence was killing me. Fucking killing me. It was like a tattoo, a tattoo that tormented me and tore me to pieces and made me bawl at all sorts of weird times. It wasn't healthy, like a partnership, like a team, like any sort of dynamic duo. It was a plague, constant clouds of locusts, a burnt out lightbulb broken off in the perpetually plugged in lamp.

So what'd you do?

What'd I do?

How did you get rid of the tattoo?

Um

Really, though. If it's perpetual, combined, attached... how'd you get rid of it?

I-

You didn't.

Yes I did.

No, you didn't

How do you know?

Oh I know.

Listen. I don't know what the fuck you want from me... I don't know what you're doing here, what you're trying to do, I was on a new route, one of normal, normal smiles, normal Saturday nights.... I was working on what I wanted,

Not what you wanted.

Shut up.

Oh, you're no where near where you thought you were... you did not get rid of it...

HOW DO YOU KNOW?

CUZ I'M RIGHT HERE.

What?

I'm right here.

What?

I'm right here.

You, uh, what? No, no, I don't get it...

I know I don't look how you remember, but I am right here. Cuz I know, and you know... you can't get rid of me.

Where've you been?

Right by you.

Right by me?

Right by you.

The whole time?

The whole time.

How come I never saw you?

I didn't think you were ready.

We needed some separation. We...still need some separation.

I don't think so.

No, I was just, I was really close to-

You don't belong there.

Don't belong where?

Where you think you belong. You'll never get there... and you don't belong there.

Well maybe I could if you would go, if you would just go and leave me alone. Go! GO!

I can't.

GO! GO ON! GO!

You know I can't do that. Not now. I'm sorry.

You are not sorry.

And you used to be a poet.

Shut up.

You don't have be afraid.

Yes, I do.

And this is your problem.

No, you're my problem.

No, I'm not. You need me. You need me. And that's okay.

It is not okay.

Yes it is. And as soon as you let it be okay, it's going to be so much more than okay. Do I look the same?

No.

Do I speak the same?

No.

Do you feel the same?

What?

Do you feel the same?

The same as what?

As before.

Um

Do you?

Well, no, no I guess not.

Well,

Well what?

Well, come here.

What?

Come here. There, there, we're gonna be okay, you know. This time, trust me, this is it. Calm down. Okay, this time. Okay? Trust me, this time. (he embraces her)

Play 28: yum

They sit and they eat.

Yum.

Yum.

Yum.

Yum. This is good.

Very good.

Yum.

Delicious.

So good.

Wow.

Yum.

Yum.

Yum.

Is this?

Yeah.

Yum.

Yum.

I can't remember

me either

wow

so good

yum

I'm pretty high

yeah

yeah

me too

do you think

I think

probably

wow

yum

yum

what if

what

what if

so good

yum

what if what

what if we

what?

Seriously scrumptious

so good

yum

yum

yum

what if we only think it's good cuz we're fucked up

what

what

what

what if-

so good

yum

yum

yum

what if we only think it's good cuz we're fucked up

are we

fucked up

are we

fucked up

we're fucked up

yum

yum

yum

we're fucked up

but

but

but it's so good

delicious

so good

yum

yum

do you care?

do we care?

We're not that fucked up

Yum

Yum

Yum

We are that fucked up. We are.

Did you taste this?

I tasted-

But did you taste this?

I-

Taste this.

Yum.

Yum.

Yum.

Yum. 

Play 29: latched

No well it's not yours

well...

no, no well. It's not yours. Being latched onto it doesn't make it yours

3000. but I do love it the most

doesn't make it yours

well...

no well

let's see though really... I'm latched to it and I love it the most... kinda makes it mine

it's not a woman for god's sake, it's a tree

oh do those rules apply to women? Of course.. why aren't I latching to women?

Let go

no

come on

no

I don't get this. I don't get what you're doing. You're not even a bunny hugger or whatever

a tree hugger?

You're not even a tree hugger!

Well...

Ah! you know what I mean. You've never like, planted stuff or celebrated Earth Day or given up meat or any of that shit

I celebrate Arbor Day

Shut up! You do not! Give it up. Let's go. Come on.... you've wasted enough time today

right i'm not going anywhere

bro, get out of my yard

no I live here now.

Oh you live here now? In my yard?

Yeah. Mine.

Not really how it works...

But I love this tree. Why is that so hard to understand?

Because you don't. You don't love this tree. What you love is pissing me off. You lov emaking a fucking scene so I can't enjoy a Fast and Furious movie in peace. You enjoy being a piece of shit selfish friend who all of a sudden jumps on some weird hippie bandwagon to latch onto a tree that isn't being cut down! You know that's why people latch onto trees, right? To save trees! You dumb motherfucker. I can't stand your fucking attitude and your fucking smugness and your fucking jokes. Is this another one of your goddamn jokes, cuz if so hahaha you're the fucking worst. Now let go or I'm calling the cops.

Dude-

Seriously. You're not funny, you're not cute. There's no fucking chicks to impress so why don't you just let go and go the fuck home and then probably stay there for like ever.

Um

Really. Just go.

Uh, alright.

Oh that wasn't so hard was it.

Whatever dude.

Bye.

Do you even wanna know what I was do-

No.

Okay.

A surprise party has been formed in the house and as he detaches from the tree, it becomes clear that he was simply a distraction. 

Play 30: and i'm saying it's time

I'm drinking pop

I'm drinking coffee

I'm drinking orange juice

I'm drinking gin

I'm drinking water

I'm on my own

I'm waiting for the rest

I haven't heard from anyone in days

I need some space

I'm sorry, what, I can't really hear you

I lost my cool

I kinda flipped shit

I freaked out

I was out of control

I kinda blacked out for a minute

I look

I listen

I smile

I giggle

I laaaaaugh

I care

I collect

I carve

I cancel

I create

I'm eating Cheetos

I'm eating Huevos Rancheros

I'm eating salt

I'm eating lemon meringue

I'm eating tuna tartar

I have ideas

I have ideas

I have ideas

I have ideas

I have ideas

When I talk I hear jazz music

when I talk I hear jungle noises

when I talk I hear dump trucks

when I talk I hear chickadees

when I talk I hear lawn mowers

when it's time, it's time

and i'd say it's time

here it is

the time of times

And i'm saying it's time. 

Play 31: we will save this place yet

You

yes you

and me

yes me

we will

yes we will

take credit

where credit is due

we

yes us

will develop

we will

the new system

a great system

free of charge

no cost at all

you

yes you

and me

yes me

we

us

it's not so bad, ya know

the old system

we agree

but still

we

yes us

are sure

positively

you're be happier

all of you

across the board

you're welcome

we will save this place yet 

Play 31

it's a journey a journey a journey

The men are gathered around. The meeting is set on the bow of the ship, throughout various projects can be seen, all abandoned to attend the meeting. The ship rocks gently but diligently.

Captain: When we arrive, men, then you'll know. It'll all make sense then. It will come together in your mind, bridging the gap between the creation you've constructed and the simultaneous construction of doubt that eats away at your creation... you will sleep better. You will eat with a new appreciation. Once we are off here and into the land, once we accomplish this goal-we look to that goal. Nothing opens doors like closing doors. Nothing breeds a creative mind than the completion of a journey... men, imagine what's to come because nothing is sweeter than reality being better than your imagination. It won't be long now, it won't be long.

The men disperse, back to their projects. Two men head to a sculpture, they work and talk.

Man1: You believe it?

Man2: Believe what?

Man1: All that bridging the gap, glory land stuff?

Man2: I dunno

Man1: Whattya mean, you dunno?

Man2: I want to, I mean... that's why we got on this boat to begin with, right?

Man1: Right. But...

Man2: But, I'm losing it, man. Losing steam. Lost the steam. I mean, look at this thing. Really look at this thing in front of us. What are we doing here?

Man1: It's our sculpture. What we've worked on since we've been on this boat.

Man2: But what is it? What does it mean to you?

Man1: It's the clay and paper representation of what we left behind.

Man2: Right. And why? Why does what we left behind need a justification in clay and paper and the shapes our hands give it?

Man1: Well if we knew why, we probably wouldn't have left

Man2: But listen, listen, what can really be different? The captain talks about this magical place, this answers to all our questions land... but I don't know, man, we've already been on this boat a whole lot longer than we were told we were gonna be on it, and everyone just works away at their own individual shit and every day we hear a speech about how much greater it's going to be, but no one ever tells me how... we just hear the same lofty claims day in and day out and are expected to keep working on our same bullshit projects day in and day out because we are one day going to hit land and in this land, our projects will make sense, and we won't feel the same nagging and longing and lack of appreciation for the nonsense that we've learned to call our art.

Man1: Nonsense? Well, first man, you have to believe in it. It can't mean anything to anyone if it doesn't mean anything to you

Man2: Can't you hear yourself spouting the same exact phrases that we've been told over and over and over? “Believing”... finding personal meaning... blah blah blah. I didn't leave everything behind to be told the exact same art cliches I was told in elementary school art class.

Man1: Then why did you come?

Man2: Because there has to be something else... there just has to be. Something beyond arbitrarily priced gallery space, beyond paint tubes and sheet music and left to right poetry...I couldn't live where everyone was just doing their definition of weird in order to prove quirkiness in order to prove creativity in the hopes that they could have a blog written about them or be on the cover of People or some shit. Everyone was an artist, everyone had a vision...and why? So that they could become another celebrity in the pool of fucking awful that everyone else who wasn't able to convince all the exact right people that they were cool enough can sit at home and stare at these marketed, false versions of humans on their tvs and their phones and their magazines. Everyone wants to be obsessed over. And in order to do anything, anything at all, we have to abide the system, we could never be allowed to just do what we wanted all the time because the way all the assholes before us set it all up is that we have debts and we have bill after bill and it's all just compounded on the rules made fucking forever ago that force us to all be miserable, to have to do miserable things in order to just keep our head above water... when those with intelligence and ideas should be rising to the top, those who have somehow acquired more numbers, the numbers following the rules set up, the ones with money... they are the winners. They are on top. And I was getting to this point that I either needed to escape or blow it all up because the rules and those who follow them and those who convince themselves they're breaking them... it all just was welling and welling and making me freak out, freak out. So I got on this boat, to be taken to what's next, to the new land, the new set up... but we've just been stuck on here, with no hope, no answers and the same contrived bullshit “art” we had before.

pause

Man1: That's kinda bleak, man

Man2: Well, why'd you come?

Man1: I wanted an adventure

the men gather around

Captain: Very soon. Very soon, men, it'll all be clear. You'll know and I'll know. And the answers will come before the questions.