pxidustbonelust (pxidustbonelust) wrote in __fivefootseven,
pxidustbonelust
pxidustbonelust
__fivefootseven

the mind and heart of self.

note: this is a short existentialist play i wrote about 5 years ago. i was proud of it then, and after re-reading i think that i can say i feel the same. feedback would be lovely, if anyone has two cents to put in. i wouldn't post it here but i wrote it during my first round of anorexia, and i think that it's interesting, the things your mind comes up with when it's starving. hope you enjoy.

The Mind and Heart of Self.

Enter MIND, HEART, and SELF onto a bare stage lit in soft blue. SELF sits. MIND and HEART stand behind her and stare at nothing in particular.

MIND

Want a cigarette?

HEART

No, I already ate.

MIND

Did you see him?

HEART

His eyes pulled her here.

MIND

She’s old enough.

HEART

She’s dying.

MIND

It’s all in her head.

HEART

She’s heading out. I need some air.

MIND

I offered you one.

HEART

Do you have any cigarettes?

(SELF lights a cigarette)

MIND

Have you ever wondered why it’s so easy to get lost in a fish tank?

HEART

She used to love swimming.

MIND

Let it go.



HEART

He never left her veins. I can feel him pulsing always---to this very second.

MIND

Is ‘slut’ a proper noun?

HEART

I’ve always been partial to green.

MIND

Just because you’ve had sex with someone… no… fucked someone… maybe more than someone… it doesn’t make you slutty. It doesn’t make you bad. It doesn’t make you anything… really. It’s a choice… right? I feel like there should be a lot more to everything.

HEART

Like when the sunshine seeps into her soul and fills everything and it doesn’t matter how sad or angry we were, because once that warmth is inside of her--- there is nothing else. They say that sharks are partial to yellow, though.

MIND

I wanted her to travel the ancient world. I wanted her to have a daughter that would hate her as much as she hated her own mother. I wanted her to get arrested for standing up and shouting out loud for everything that she believed in. I wanted her to say something. Say anything. I wanted passion. I wanted it harder…faster…deeper… I wanted to be full.

HEART

Things were never really quite right after she was raped.

MIND

I wanted to kill her. In fact--- I spent the first half of my life trying to.

HEART

And people always act like they get it. Or pretend that it never happened. And there’s always that sugar-sweet emptiness in their voices- the one that borders between politeness and arrogance. And she knows that they don’t care. No. That isn’t it. It’s something else. Rose petals are associated with sorrow and reflection. She always seems to rain rose petals.

MIND

Look in the mirror.

HEART

She told me that I’m depressed. Yes… that I’m depressed and what’s more--- that it’s part of growing up. But when he tried to kiss her, I backed away.

MIND

The mirror. It shows her what we can never see.

HEART

And I doubt sometimes… that I’m quite good enough.

MIND

I’ve always wondered why she never cut quite deep enough.

HEART

Perchance to dream a little longer. By chance to see something that never existed. By chance--- to believe that perhaps it did. Do you believe in magic? Not studio magic. Not tricks. But in real-- honest and pure magic? In faeries and unicorns and dragons and the like. White magic. Magic that knows no despair or regret. She is well aware of regret.

MIND

She’ll need thick skin to make it in the world. Sometimes Frank Sinatra can be helpful. It always seems to work for her. I’m partial to the way you look tonight.

HEART

Sometimes I wish she didn’t care so much about everything. I wish that she were as apathetic as she pretends to be. Sometimes I like it when she sits in front of the mirror---just waiting to see who stares back.

MIND

I would help her if she’d let me.

HEART

I can remember her spinning around for what seemed like hours. She never used to get this dizzy. We never used to hurt this much. She used to roll down this hill every day. I’ve just now realized that maybe she never quite made it back to the top.

MIND

There was never any doubt in me.

HEART

I hate waking up before the moon reaches the center of the sky. Life shouldn’t be walked through in a haze. I want to take in everything.

MIND

She used to drown herself in the stars. Even with as much as she feared the night. We’d have to reel her back to the ground. She loved watching the sun rise through dew-dropped spider webs. And, though quite the performer she was, she always hated crowds.

HEART

I have mixed feelings about the fall. Certainly- there’s beauty in the neutrality and simplicity of it all- but the loss of summer memories always weighs heavier than an ocean of opportunity.

MIND

The number outweighs any consequences. Have you ever noticed that, when an animal wants to die---when she knows her time is up, she’ll seclude herself?

HEART

It’s so hard to get tea to the right temperature. I always find that it’s too hot one minute, and then freezing the very next. Even the simplest of things turn into complexities within her.

MIND

I only stop missing the embrace when I remember that it was never really there to begin with. I’m talking true embrace--- the love kind. The kind that melts you and spins you until you want to throw up---but you wouldn’t let go of it for anything. She was always a sucker for romance.

HEART

When her body was on fire and the two of them were a tangled mess of arms and legs and pure desire. When it stopped being a one-nighter as soon as she looked into his eyes and---in that moment, she was one with everything and worshiping everything and touching and tasting and stretching and moaning … up then down and losing control and knowing that nothing could ever change the way that she felt at that very moment…

MIND

Where do I begin?

HEART

But we were always there to step in. In the end, she always realized that it really wasn’t worth the trouble.

MIND

I wouldn’t change a thing. Do you want a cigarette?

(SELF lights a second cigarette)



HEART

Her eyes used to sparkle. They used to shine and laugh and sing. Her eyes are dead. Cloudy. Like smoke. Can you remember the last time we were happy? The last time we even spoke?

MIND

Knowing the future will not change what we fear. Only she can decide that. Knowing the past is a crutch we can depend on. Dwelling there can be fatal.

HEART

I’d like a cigarette.

MIND

It slows everything down.

HEART

A cigarette?

MIND

The anger. The pain. The resentment. Holding on to things that have been gone for years. He’s never coming back.

(SELF extinguishes her cigarette)

MIND

And she knows.

HEART

I feel him still…

MIND

In time.

HEART

In pulse. In beats.

MIND

It’s nearly dawn. She sleeps.

HEART

She sleeps.

MIND

I had hoped that we would be able to make things right.

HEART

In time.
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