I write too many soliloquies 13:29, September 28, 2011 (UTC)

frumpfBANG

The cottage door is shut. Now is the hour for monstrosities

Cast spotlight. Pause metronomy. Keep breathing

A hand comes out. A stare into the darkness. Do not shudder. Keep breathing

& speak with proper volume: Who am I, some knave, some swine, some piano key?

Will to reply: Pianos are best when they have more than one key

Rotate the head by a right angle while raising the other hand in unison with the other’s collapse. Point with an angry furrow

Who are you, this intruder, to say who might be best to be?

I am… I am not the ocean, I am but the sea

What does that even mean? Speak up, come out of the light so that I might see

The furrow drops. The hand slacks. Only half a step is given towards the voice

Nonsense. Nevermind. Take heed: this is a choice

Choice? Nevermore! I’ven’t stayed my path, and now I’ve only choice of which way to scream upon my plummeting death

Choose! Choose, you fool, to seek some sanctuary and upon impact find burrow

I expect you’d leave me some choice words in my last breath?

Expect nothing from me. Expect nothing, so to hope for the moon

I have no hope for the moon. I’ven’t thumb to budge. I’ve only a holler too dumb

If one wishes to be silly, then at this point two hands should raise holler. But such an act would be dumb

A moment is the existence between two choices. Lovely, how one choice can drastically change various outcome

Lovely? Speak of no ill things. I wouldn’t be standing on this pier if the world didn’t mock me so lovingly

Lovingly? Hardly. You’re standing on this pier because this is the moment

The moment? This is nothing more than your entombment

Nothing more? My death is without moment?

Yes. It’s the penultimate point which ends with a choice. The ultimate point lacks a choice to epilogue

You act as if a character out of Prelude to Pedagogue

You’ve yet to see my face all boiled with the shimmered eyes of my failed students. I am here The Harvester

More likely The Precocious. Here I am enjoying my last possession of the stage, and you’ve the nerve to call this hour for monstrosities the hour for audacities

& who do you think you are to take it from me? Pass me the bar, take a bow, and dive

In requiem? Not now, you’d ruin my epitath with too young a Domaine Leflaive

Dare I? Keep those bastardly insults for yourself. You think I’m stealing the stage? Then I’ll steal the spotlight too

Cue spotlight moving into the darkness. Reveal a rather lovely thing

Swindler! Unequaled conceit, never has anyone found reason to so sadly sing

I am all that is and ever was, so will ever be

Who are you to claim such privilege once born anew?

Who are you to ask? You’re jumping off a pier. For all you care, you never were. Or are your post mortem aspirations not so modest?

I was wrought from a common dignity to this. I shan’t betray a thing so honest

Betray? Your hopes and dreams? Or that fair lady, who only days ago cried her last tears?

Oh how awful her eyes! To expect me to gaze them as beauties having been so plucked

They were ripe to be suckled

An angry turn. Fast steps

Silence yourself, escape into that darkness which shelters you from me. Such lacking moderation. Have you no mirror?

A mirror? For what, so that there might be two of me? I assure you, there’s only one

That you might check yourself with proper care and take up civility. Of you, I wish there only none

Then step again due course; for you, I’d soon follow

Stop following me

No parting kiss?

No, now go

As soon as you

Me? Why must I choose? Such a chance I’d rather miss

To live or die, the most important question, yet neither offering anything near bliss

My deathly bride offers more hope than your narrow song

& gone