The Ticking

(Spot light on a woman)

WOMAN

It's weird, I've never wanted to have children...Ok, once I wanted a child. I saw my ex holding our newborn nephew, and I don’t know...he had this look in his eyes…like he knew the meaning of life and it was in his arms. When I held the baby, I didn’t get that at all. But that’s the moment I knew I had to give him children. I made up my mind to do it although I never got the chance. Looking back, I've been glad that things ended without bringing offspring into it. It's been seven years since I saw that look and longed to give him what he wanted most. Other than that, there hasn't been a day that I have thought "I want kids." I started thinking that, maybe I was born without a biological clock, ticking away making me baby crazed. Maybe this is the next step in the evolutionary chain...no more ticking. And then it happens. I'm walking to the train in the bustling Chicago metropolis and it hits me: I have to have children! I can’t let my father not be a grandfather. So, here I am 27, blissfully single, trying to make it in the big bad world. And now I want a child? I have this rush of questions. What is it like to live for another person? Am I capable of giving every part of me to someone else? How does it feel to love someone so much? I don’t know that I’m ready for that…so for now it’s a maybe…maybe I want children…maybe I don’t…maybe…but I don’t know. I think there are too many “maybes” in this equation. So, for now, I’ll just buy a puppy and hit snooze on the alarm that just went off and see where this life takes me. Who knows, one day it could happen, but for now I’ll be satisfied with what I have.

(As lights fade to black, sound effects of children laughing and playing.)

END

Getting all political on your ass...

September 11th is day we all remember. We all mourn the loss of our innocence. It's the day we woke up and knew with out a doubt that this world is not the world that we thought we were living in. We imagined ourselves in a safe world free from harm, free from hate. Up to this point we were a generation undefined by war. We were defined by our lack of anything. Now we have this…This gaping whole in the skyline of our lives defining us. We are a peaceful people run by warmongering fools. We bring destruction upon ourselves without remorse, then we blame someone else for our downfall. As a nation, we need to stand up, take responsibility, and grow up. We have no one to blame but ourselves. We put these warmongers into power; we allowed them to use scare tactics to send us into a war that has been costly and uncalled for. We allowed them to give us the words to hate another culture, another group of people who now live in fear that we will obliterate them without a second thought. The land of the free has now become the land of the unforgiving…the land of the hateful, selfish, hypocrite. We preach equality for all, yet we scoff at the thought of two men marrying. We preach freedom of religion, yet condemn an entire group of people for not believing in the Christian God. We claim to be “watch dogs,” when in reality we are the bullies. Aren’t we taught to love? Aren’t we taught acceptance? Aren’t we taught to be fair and not to fight? Or are these rules that only children must follow? We need to take responsibility for our actions. And I intend to. I try to live my life by many different principles. I try to achieve Zen. I try to follow the golden rule. I try to follow the basic rules of life taught to me as a child. I know that I am not perfect and that I will fail at times, but I will be damned if I don’t try harder next time. If we all took responsibility for ourselves, loved our neighbors, respected the rights of those around us, and taught peace and understanding then maybe this world would have a chance. Otherwise all I see is utter self-destruction, brought on by a self-righteous bully.

The Butterfly

(Single spot light up on a woman dressed in business attire.

She is wearing heels, slacks, a button down shirt, and a

jacket. Her hair is up. She looks "professional")

WOMAN

Five percent of Fortune 500 Companies are run by women...Five...Five percent. What does this tell me? That I can be anything that I want to be? No, it says that to be considered smart and sucessful I have to dress like a man, act like a man, try to be a man. I try not to lose myself in my need for success...my need to be in that five percent, but I'm not sure people are ready for a woman. A real, honest-to-goodness woman. So what happens? (She starts to take down her hair. As the monologue continues she undresses down to her bra.) I pin my hair up and wear suits. I talk about statistics and sports. I become an emotionless robot who only cares about work. I come in early and stay late. I make myself uninteresting. But, hey, at least I'm thought of as smart and successful, right? Why can't I be smart, successful, beautiful, and interesting? I guess I am asking to have my cake and eat it, too.

Living Versus Surviving

Surviving

The wind rises, dust surrounds me.
I'm in a desert of emotions that I can't name or touch.
My happiness is a mirage on the horizon.
I keep trying to reach it, but I lose my sense of direction.
Caught here in this land not living, just surviving;
The sun beats down on me like a depressive state
Pulling me into myself, lost, I see nothing.
The darkness of night engulfs me in my loneliness.
Tears well up like a rain storm causing you to take cover,
But they disapate before they have time to be acknowledged.
A tornado of feeling swirls around me,
Threating to throw me like a doll from a house.
It moves too quickly for me to react.
And it leaves as quickly as it came.
For now I survive, but for how long?

Old Poems

Alone (circa 2004)

Silently crying,
In a room full of people,
Alone.

My love has left me,
And my tears fall,
All around me,
Alone.

I wish you where here,
Holding me close,
But here I am,
Alone.

Lonely (circa 2004)

One heart,
Beating softly in the night.
Waiting for her lover,
She holds his pillow tight.

Waiting, wishing, wanting
For his return.
Alone in thier bedroom,
Oh, how she does yearn.

One heart,
Beating softly in the night.
Waiting for her lover,
She holds his pillow tight.

The Bride

(A single spot comes up on a young woman in a wedding dress)

WOMAN

I, Jeff, take thee, Lisa, to be my lawful wedded wife to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer. And forsaking all others, be faithful only to you as long as we both shall live...BULLSHIT! How can you sit through a wedding and listen to these bogus words and think: forever? How can you stand across from anyone and think that these words will keep you both honest until death do you part? Or would we rather honesty? I, Bradley, take thee, Shanna, to be my wedded wife. I promise to try to love you for the rest of my life, but if I don't I'll give you half, in accordance with our pre-nup. I know that people want romance and love that lasts...a fairy tale. A fictional story told to keep boys and girls in line. But why do we need this...this big ceremony...this show? When did 'I love you' stop being enough? Three little words with so much meaning...I love you. It's the hardest thing to say to another person, yet we stage entire productions based on them. Oh, you don't think a wedding is a production? Well it is...right down to set and costumes. Everything is scripted, there's even an audience and a director...father of the bride: the producer...the stars: the Bride and Groom...supporting cast: brides maids and grooms men...Shit, there's even comic relief: the flower girl, spinning in her dress, and the ring bearer, playing hide-and-seek with the best man...I'm not saying I don't believe in love...I just don't know how I feel about forever...

(As lights fade to black)

MALE VOICEOVER

You may now kiss the bride.

(BLACK OUT)

END

Writing Journal Day 1

Her eyes were so blue and her skin so pale, that she didn't look real. Could he have imagined her? He doubted it. James stood looking for the girl who vanished without a trace. One second the girl with the bluest eyes stood in front of him crying and the next she was gone. What happened? Did he look away? Did he blink? He couldn't remember. All he could think about was her eyes. There was trouble there. James turns and lights a cigarette. Slowly he takes a drag and walks towards the el.

"James?" a female voice whispers.

James turns and sees her again.

"How did you know my name?"

"I know more than you think."

"Are you an angel?" He asks as he stares into her eyes.

"Not quite."

As if under a spell, James collapses to the ground. No one notice other than the girl with the blue eyes. She leans down and whispers into his ear and the two disappear as if they were never there to begin with.

Twelve hours have passed, when James awakens. He dismisses everything he remembers as a dream.

"I must have been exhausted to have dreamt all of that."

The door to his room slowly opens and the girl enters. Her eyes as blue as the cloudless sky feel as though they can see right through him, as if she is peering into his soul and knows all of his deepest darkest secrets. She moves closer and closer. So close that James is looking right into her eyes. Almost nose to nose.

Then he feels it. Her pain. She is broken, that's why her eyes are so clear. He realizes that it isn't she who can see his soul, but he can see hers. He sees the pieces that are broken and bandaged. He knows how they've come to be that way. And more than that he knows how to fix it.