the subway

Every day is exactly the same as the last.  Every morning, the buzz of my alarm rouses me from another dreamless sleep, beaconing me toward another dreamless day. Every morning I rise, and try not to think too hard about things.  Today feels different somehow.  I realize how redundant the familiar routine has become. I’m sitting here among countless faces and I’m wondering why they’re all scowling.  No one is happy anymore.  We’re just too occupied with more important matters.  I want to stand up and scream. Hello sir, how are you today? Hello? I know you can hear me. If you’d just look up, you’d see me too. Sir? Sir? Do you know just how unhappy I am sir?  I take this train every morning and I’ve likely sat beside you many times.  But did you ever see just how unhappy?  Sir?  Ma’am? That’s a lovely scarf ma’am.  I had a scarf like that once.  But I burned it.  I burned a lot of things ma’am.  Would you care to know why? Hello, where are you headed?  To work no doubt.  I imagine you work in a building so high that the air is thin, just like every other.  What do you suppose is the point of it all?  Could you tell me please? I’m having a rather difficult time remembering. Help me! I seem to have gotten terribly lost!  What is this dream?  When did it stop being about searching for contentment of our own? What is it we’re trying to do here?  Do you know who I am?  Do you know just how fucking miserable things have gotten? This train is moving too fast.  I can’t stop the numbness!  I can’t flip the switch!  It’s screaming out of control.  Can you feel it? We’re all going to die!  Are you ready?  Did you hear me?  Have you done what needs doing? Are you going to sleep through that too?this is actually scene 7 of the play i wrote called "bittersweet". i wrote it in a dream, and once it was on paper, the play pretty much grew around it. it was a fun rant to watch on stage :) Written November 17th, 2001 © on Nov 16 2001 08:51 PM PST   10 • 0 • 9