Here you are darling, drink me. I’m all yours.
I hope my silence.words.noise.wine. words fill your stomach as well.
I am thirsty and hungry as well.
dragons Feed Me.
I have turned my head upside down and shook out everything I have ever learned and am by the second filing it with Shakespeare, Chekhov, Vogel, Labute, Mammet…..any thing that contains words. But, only a certain type of words. Words that can transform from ink to voice. Oh alchemy can only begin to pretend to perform this.
Yet, as an actress.
I shall.
Monologue oh Monologue,
Where are you?
I am searching deep within the web of society,
And still I cannot find you.
I am in necessity of you.
For four of you!
Two Classical – Two Contemporary
My tongue has ripped itself out of my mouth,
It refuses to return empty handed.
For my voice has no voice,
Without thou words.
Monologue(S). I am dumb.
Cure me.
Time. It takes time. Ajna.
I have read so much, it is kind of freaky.
I have talked to myself so much, it is kind of awesome.
I have clicked into acting school mode, it is kind of orgasmic.
Time. It takes time.
Busboy called me. How timing loves perfection. My frantic mind needed to smile and laugh at unimportantness, so it did, for more than hour. It enjoyed the unimportantness of buses that shut doors in your face. And then I realized that maybe it is ok that buses and dragons are friends. Maybe this unimportant ludicrous talking could amount to something simple – not every guy has to be this monumental Strawberry. The simplicity and lack of proximity makes the bus and the dragon giggle like little school kids at the sound of a honking truck.
The bus told me that dragons should come to the Lone Star capital,
On the eve of the beginning of the decade.
The bus said that dragons and buses would collide
Creating firewords.
Kabooom kabooom he said.
Bus doors and Fire-filled nostrils will battle.
Beware dear sky. For fire will fill your blue.
I love you for inhaling my words of FLW.
I know it was intense. I swear my fingers shocked its fellow keyboard at moments.
Although – it was heavily alluded to his writings, so it must have been hard to follow I LOVE that you still did. The more eyes on my words only gives them more power to morph into a voice.
love you both.
beaucoup. beaucoup.
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hi babycakes. i'm going to need a more grounded translation of buses and dragons because darling, i can sip up your words in oh so many ways! love you. and i'm sure you've seen this, but this is one of the few monologues i know that i find amazing. it's Lady Macbeth (I think I've mentioned it to you?) after she had her husband murdered. She has his blood on her hands and no matter how much she scrubs, she can't get the blood off them. (It's not exactly a monologue as is, but just take out the random lines from the doctor and gentlewoman and it works beautifully.) Only an idea. keep me posted and can't wait to talk to you!
ReplyDeleteLADY MACBETH
31 Yet here's a spot.
Doctor
32 Hark! she speaks. I will set down what comes
33 from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more
34 strongly.
LADY MACBETH
35 Out, damned spot! out, I say!—One: two: why,
36 then, 'tis time to do't.—Hell is murky!—Fie, my
37 lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we
38 fear who knows it, when none can call our power
39 to account?—Yet who would have thought the old
40 man to have had so much blood in him?
Doctor
41 Do you mark that?
LADY MACBETH
42 The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now?—
43 What, will these hands ne'er be clean?—No more o'
44 that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with
45 this starting.
Doctor
46 Go to, go to; you have known what you should
47 not.
Gentlewoman
48 She has spoke what she should not, I am sure
49 of that; heaven knows what she has known.
LADY MACBETH
50 Here's the smell of the blood still. All the
51 perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this
52 little hand. O, O, O!
Doctor
53 What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely
54 charg'd.
Gentlewoman
55 I would not have such a heart in my bosom
56 for the dignity of the whole body.
Doctor
57 Well, well, well.
Gentlewoman
58 Pray God it be, sir.
Doctor
59 This disease is beyond my practise; yet I
60 have known those which have walked in
61 their sleep who have died holily in their beds.
LADY MACBETH
62 Wash your hands, put on your nightgown;
63 look not so pale.—I tell you yet again, Banquo's
64 buried; he cannot come out on's grave.
Doctor
65 Even so?
LADY MACBETH
66 To bed, to bed! there's knocking at the gate:
67 come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's
68 done cannot be undone.—To bed, to bed, to bed!
(the doctor and gentlewoman are talking to each other about lady macbeth--not to her. she is in her own torturous world.
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