One-Sided Conversation with my Subconscious, a Dream Narrative, 2020

I wrote this monologue based on a dream journal I kept for a month during March of 2020

Transcript:

a dream

So, I have a question. I know I’ve been here before. I remember being here. I don’t remember when…or why…or how…or what I was doing but I know I was here. But now… I’m moving? So I guess that’s my question. Why am I moving? And where am I moving to? Though, I suppose that’s really neither here nor there, because I can’t remember where I’m moving…or when I’m moving…or why I’m moving…or even what I’m moving. Is it me? Am I moving? Are you helping me move? No. You’re just in the way. You’re in the way like you were when I was drowning. I am drowning. This boat is sinking. Fuck I can’t get my phone wet! (raises their phone above their head). It’s really hard to swim one handed and fully clothed, knowing that all my belongings are sinking to the bottom of the ocean and the ocean is getting colder and the island is getting farther and farther away and the screams of my friends are fading and maybe they forgot about me. And I am slowly running out of power and my joints are rusting like old metal and I can’t breathe anymore and yet for some reason my phone is still the number one priority. (lowers hand) I mean I guess it’s ok though, because I’ll just surf in. Do we know how to surf? Not really, right? I mean, I guess there was that one time, but we were drunk, so you probably remember it more than I do. Plus, it wasn’t storming that one time like it is now. These clouds are swirling into a tornado and these waves are pretty big and we should probably start sorting this food, right? We can do it together. (sudden shift in mood) Or we can call DoorDash and they can bring us popcorn. After all, it’s just us in this huge empty hotel; all the rooms to ourselves. HEY! That reminds me?? What’s up with all the nudity? There’s absolutely no reason for me to be seeing HIM naked, even though he’s really hot and I definitely want to, and maybe he is gay? No. Shut up. Don’t go down that path. (pause) I know exactly where I am. I’ve been here before. But why don’t I recognize it? Why does it look like this? I know I’m at school, but it looks like Middle Earth. Like, I’m in the dining hall but also standing on this cliff looking out at the ocean. How does that make sense? No, I get it, (sarcastically) it’s up to my interpretation. Whatever, I think we’ve both had enough ocean for a while. Oh, you disagree? That’s why our house is floating and we’re on a cruise ship? Well then where’s the water? Oh, now I see it, it’s flooding my room. Are we drowning again? No, I can fix this. There, I fixed it. How? I don’t know, but it is Christmas so maybe we can ask Santa, he’s right over there. Right next to the devil who looks like he’s about to kill me. I’m dead. (pause)

Listen. I don’t think this is working. I’m breaking up with you. No no no no no no it’s not me, it’s you. You’ve treated me pretty badly. You literally just killed me. You force me to remember things I don’t want to remember. You never let me live in the moment. You manipulate me. You manufacture memories, altering my experiences. But in doing so, all of those memories that had started to fade, have returned. These memories and experiences I didn’t even know I had; they came to me. And, even if they aren’t 100% accurate, they’re a reminder of where I’ve been and what I’ve done and who I am.

I wonder if any of this makes sense. I don’t really care if it does. I don’t think it’s really supposed to; to me, to you, or to anyone else. This is a load of shit. You are a load of shit. We are a load of shit. But we also don’t need to make sense. You don’t need to make sense. And that’s it.



Hit the following link to watch me read the monologue:
https://youtu.be/LGrk00SLols