The playwright is twenty-three years old
Twenty-four in July
The persona doesn’t feel like letting go of twenty-two
He didn’t think that he minded aging
Until he hit twenty-three
And found that he wasn’t ready to go there yet
The persona remains twenty-two
So the playwright only writes about twenty-two year olds
Who show hints of a twenty-third year
Like gray hair’s on a woman’s dyed head
The playwright is gay and passive
The persona is gay and militant
The persona feels strongly about gay marriage, gay rights, and gay sex
The playwright doesn’t bother to discuss these things with otherse
The persona throws them in the face of everyone he meets
The playwright would like to write about other things
But the persona says other things have already been written about
And that it doesn’t want to deal with anything but being gay in today’s society
This is a struggle that the two deal with almost constantly
The playwright is a good person
He would never raise his voice
Yell, argue, confront, attack
He is charitable, sincere, friendly
People like the playwright
They invite him to parties
They take him on dates
They embrace him
The persona doesn’t give a fuck about anyone
He likes to shake things up
He likes making people uncomfortable
Making them think about why they do what they do
And why they’re stupid for doing it
He is hypocritical, complex, diverse in personality
People are intimidated by him
They scorn him
They talk about him though
And that’s exactly what he wants
When they see the persona coming, they cross the street
And again, the persona couldn’t care less
If the playwright were a sport, he would be basketball
If the person were a sport, he would be boxing or hockey
Something full contact
If the playwright were to go on vacation, he would go somewhere quiet
The persona would go to Vegas and have lots of sex—NSA
And not feel guilty about it.
The playwright bites his nails.
The persona gives people eating disorders.
The playwright enjoys pancakes.
The persona wants fresh tortellini with well-blended tomato sauce
The playwright laughs at Knock, Knock jokes.
The persona laughs when people fall and when someone he doesn’t like ends up with a terminal disease.
The playwright wouldn’t hurt a fly
Whereas the persona has often thought of murdering everyone he comes into contact with
The playwright reads for pleasure
Whereas the persona finds pleasure in telling small children their parents are Republicans, and therefore are the reason Hepatitis exists.
He figures by the time the children realize this doesn’t make sense, they will already have an instilled fear of conservative thought.
The playwright likes Donald Margulies and Conor McPherson.
The persona likes Nicky Silver and Mac Wellman.
The playwright’s favorite t.v. show is Grey’s Anatomy.
The persona thinks watching television is like throwing up on an orphan.
The playwright is inspired by the mere flow of conscious ideas.
The persona wants to piss people off—so he exists.
The playwright wants people to consider him intelligent.
The persona thinks intelligence is subjective.
The playwright one day hopes to make a career in the theater.
The persona wants to be a badass who hitchhikes cross country and eats bad food at diners in places like
The playwright can’t get laid.
The persona can’t stop getting laid.
The playwright has a family.
The persona has friends.
The playwright has pets.
The persona would forget he had them if he had them and they would die of neglect.
The playwright has demons.
The persona is the accumulation of those demons come to life.
The playwright has days when he feels like a failure.
The persona believes the very fact that he is—signifies success of some kind.
The playwright can’t use chopsticks.
The persona speaks Japanese and Latin, when it’s called for.
The playwright feels uncomfortable dealing with his past.
The persona lives that past every day.
The playwright finds guilt interesting.
The persona wears gloves to hide the blood on his hands.
The playwright will eat a bagel if he’s hungry.
The persona will roast a turkey.
The playwright will pace the floor when he’s nervous.
The persona will take legal and illegal drugs for it.
The playwright will toy with the idea of manipulation.
The persona’s nickname in high school was “Puppet Master.”
The playwright is a man.
The persona is a man.
The playwright is frustrated.
The persona is frustrated.
The playwright finds joy every day, if only briefly.
The persona takes that joy and from it creates art.
The playwright is educated.
The persona is wise.
The playwright references famous quotations.
The persona speaks with his own voice and his own words.
The playwright has known love and desperation.
The persona is in love only with his own desperation.
The playwright envies the persona for his strength.
The persona wishes that strength could solidify.
The playwright lives through his persona.
The persona lives and wonders what he’s living for.
The playwright jots down a monologue on his break at work.
The persona finds what the playwright is trying to say.
And he says it.
And he adds the pauses.
The measures.
The tempo.
The breathing.
The intention.
And the playwright watches and thinks.
Wow, I wish I could do that.
