Monologues my drug!
On stage a monologue can reveal more of a character in one deft blah blah, but with me nah! My monologue is like a dissonant chorus! It is not like on stage where the chorus provides conscience and information to the hero/victim- in my head no way! In my head the chorus seems like competing hawkers pawning choices in an overcrowded mall, the are all trying to make the close by appealing to my preferences, or by promises of erasing a disagreement.
My head, my head what is this?
Each hawker in their pitch are speaking to different parts of my body some to my shoulders, others to my knees, others to my gut, others to my genital, and some to the head.
Wait there may be a way out of this!
I am being provided spins that appeal to different aspects of my body, and after the war of attrition expends enough energy one will be the temporary king. Why be dazzled by the hawkers when I can place my attention on the different aspects of my body? Hearing each request and then cunningly inform my parts of the other parts requests which can contextualize this desire body. Hearing- the parts create a buzz and the parts attending are now sharing attention and the various demands are diminished. If this accord can endure I may even be able to dance in a wide open field!
No field now, I speculated and the monologue wants more space to fill! ‘Monos’ is the Latin word for one, and the medieval Christian’s consider it a divine name. Today every solo rant in our common parlance is called a monologue. Does this make us God like? Or is it an attempt to run from God? Obey in Latin means to listen-am I obeying God?
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