(It is dark. Person is lying down on a bed and facing the wall. Person begins to whisper)
You ask, why did I do it? Well, it’s a simple question. It’s too simple. I can’t get around to it. That’s not the way it goes. It’s not always that perfect, you know. I don’t know what you want me to say. I suppose I’m to say something you’d like to hear. So I’m talking to you. I don’t know who the hell I’m supposed to be so I guess I’ll be who I’m most comfortable being. I guess that is who I’ll be today, right now. So I should get into details, but the details aren’t that good. I’m not vivid. What do I know about crafting some sort of story? Some mystery, whatever. I can’t do it. So I’m asking again, the one thing I’m supposed to tell you. (Pause) My crowd. This is my crowd. The walls. The white walls that never reply. You’re my crowd. I’d like a tape recorder. I’d like something to track this all down. Something intense. That’s what I’m supposed to tell. Why do I even bother with what I’m supposed to be? You notice that’s all I’ve asked. I haven’t said anything and what is there to tell anymore than what you can infer from this? And hell, I am sure there’s a lot for you to tell from this. Lots of meaning in between. I think you’re looking for something. A solution. Well there aren’t any simple solutions. I am this way for no explanation and what’s the use of explanations? I’ve told myself over and over. Had to rationalize my very being and for what? And for whose benefit? I’m wondering where this is leading. Yes, I know I’m not giving my answers much thought. I’m not doing what I should do. I should give a nice story about being…and about why I did such and such. Well, it is simple! I do the things I do. And help it, why should I help it? The question itself is negative. At least geared towards me, it is. It’s negative because I’m responding like some kind of a patient and I’m to delight you with some answer. Well, I’m sure you’ve heard these a dozen times before, but I’ve gotta do it again. I’ve gotta do it again, because I’m alone and I don’t know who else has experienced it like I have. I don’t know who else has lived this so I repeat it like it was solely mine. But it’s not just mine. And I can imagine you looking at me in disapproval like I’ve done something wrong. There’s supposed to be that answer. I should tell you like all the other kids do…the kids with their normal lives. It’s easy for them. They don’t have to make things up because it could easily be your life. I’ve gotta run around in circles and hint what I’m trying to say. And I’ve gotta do it for your approval and I’m wondering what this approval thing is gonna do for me because I know it’ll just make me like everyone else. Well, I think I’ve touched upon one thing. That’s for sure. It’s the thing about being indirect and that’s something I’ve mastered. So please read into it all, but don’t simplify it. Don’t categorize it, although if you could see me, it’ll be the easiest thing in the world to do. To categorize! Maybe I’m just bleeding for someone to figure things out. Was I supposed to say, ‘figure me out?’ I think so.
-STUPOR