tell us the one about...
100 Monologues #48: You Have To Give Yourself A Reason


You have to give yourself a reason. I don’t like the kind of things I think about, but they’re there, anyway. And people are creatures of habit. I found that out when I used to think about it all the time, and then I’d give myself a reason, and eventually all the things that seemed so final and scary started going away just by nature of habit. Let me explain, I’m sorry. There’s so many thoughts you know, sometimes I think I can’t speak fast enough – like my thoughts are like ice cream and they just melt and transform before I can finish eating it or something and then I don’t even remember the thought anymore. Like you know when you wake up from a dream and you are trying to hang on to the details, but then they melt away and all you have is green mush (if you’re eating mint chocolate chip which is the only ice cream I ever eat). Anyways, forgive me because I know this is about you, not me. So like I was saying, you have to give yourself a reason to live. None of us are going to come up with one good enough for you, because we’re not in your head. I first started thinking about it when I was in second grade. I think it was right before my eighth birthday. And I think now I was just a depressed kid but at the time I didn’t know why I felt so sad all the time. I’d hide under my blankets and count all the things I didn’t like about myself, and I’d read Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul and learn that you could starve yourself to death and I’d feel bad because I’d always get hungry every time I tried. I was too smart maybe for my own good because I used to read the labels on the cleaners under the bathroom sink and I’d look for toxic chemicals just in case I needed to end things quick. One day though, it got really bad and I was ready to swallow some drain cleaner, and that’s when I remembered I had this Cabbage Patch Doll that I was going to get for my birthday. It was this pretty little doll (well they weren’t pretty they were all ugly but she was pretty to me anyway) that was waterproof and smelled nice and I could bring it in the bathtub with me and I remembered her in her box downstairs. I thought about her in her box downstairs, like she was waiting to meet me, and I thought well if I’m going to end things I don’t think it’d be fair to that doll, you know. And also I thought, well the thought of that doll made me so excited that maybe after my birthday things would change and I’d stop feeling like this. Maybe something new like getting that doll could change everything. So that was my reason, and it was really dumb maybe, but it worked at least for a little bit. Eventually I’d feel bad again, but every time I did, I’d remember that I could find a reason to get me through, and then after that happened a few more times I realized that there was this pattern – this pattern was that things would get bad, but then they’d get better, and even if they got bad again, they would still get better. So I’m 24 years old now and every year I find a reason, and we are creatures of habit so I trust that this time it will get better too.  Anyways, I don’t know if you have a doll or something coming up that you can look forward to, but if you can’t, well just make it up because anyways, all you really need is a reason.

July 12, 2014

Natalie Dormer shot by Lorenzo Dalbosco for Nylon Magazine (September 2013)

Natalie Dormer shot by Lorenzo Dalbosco for Nylon Magazine (September 2013)

(Source: nataliedormersource, via suicideblonde)

June 16, 2014

100 Monologues #47: On Enduring Pain


Some people say I have a high tolerance for pain.  But I think it’s more of a conditional tolerance.  I’m a very weak person, by nature. But I can sit through the most extreme circumstances on the condition that it’s going to do more good in the long run. Humans are weird like that, you know? We’ll endure pain, so long as it’s for our own good. We go to the dentist and get our teeth pulled, and we don’t scream because it would be rude.  And because we know that in the long run, we’re going to have healthier teeth. We wax and tweeze and lift and pump until our bodies are tired and bruised, but we do it with smiles and an image of being beautiful in our heads.  Heck, if you held up a pot of boiling water and offered a lifetime of financial and emotional security, I bet not just one, but many people, would be begging for a chance to dip their faces in.  I would do it, if I knew my face was going to return to its healthy state.  But if you poured that same boiling water on my face with none of the promises, I’d howl and scream and cry and burn at the unfairness of it all. You see then, pain without purpose is a difficult task.  But what they don’t tell you is that purpose can be invented. Honor. Freedom. Bravery. These are all non-tangible purposes. You tell a sixteen-year-old boy to walk into a trench of rotting flesh and maggots and take a few bullet wounds getting there, just so he can look into the eyes of a stranger and make certain he’s dead – he would probably say no. But you tell that same sixteen-year-old boy to fight for his country and protect the freedom of his people… well that boy is now a soldier with a purpose. That, is pain with a purpose. You ask me why I’m crumbling at a little bit of heartbreak. I guess you’re right, I’ve felt worse things in my life. But for the life of me, I can’t understand what purpose it serves to feel like this.  And try as I might to invent one, I’m drawing a blank. It’s like you poured that boiling water at me, but for no other reason but to watch me burn. 

June 15, 2014

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25   Next »