#dramaticmonologues

Writing a monologue is like capturing the essence of a character’s soul in a singular, uninterrupted burst of expression. It’s an art form that unveils the deepest emotions, inner struggles, and unspoken desires of a character. Mastering the craft of writing a compelling monologue isn’t just about words—it’s about delving into the raw and intricate emotions that drive a character’s narrative.…

this is life, girl.

whether i love it or hate it it's gonna change. i might as well be in charge of it instead of it dragging me around. then at least i'll feel empowered.

sometimes i think of what's really holding me down, why i feel sleepy and unmotivated. why i'm searching for some kind of intellectual stimulation, people who carry in their hearts the spirit of revolution.

Kant writes, "Enlightenment is man's emergence from his self-imposed immaturity. Immaturity is the inability to use one's understanding without guidance from another. This immaturity is self-imposed when its cause lies not in lack of understanding, but in lack of resolve and courage to use it without guidance from another. Sapere Aude! [dare to know] "Have courage to use your own understanding!"--that is the motto of enlightenment." it's courage, it's human agency, the agency that is, under the condition of being human, not only my right to have and employ but innately who i am... who we all are. and we're not using it.

if i'm tired of a place where i feel as though i'm repeating the same questions to the people i know, "how was your day?" "how are classes?" "what are you doing after graduation?" "any new [men/women] in your life?", the pedantic, lulling questions that i don't really give a shit about, i can't complain-- i'm not challenging them, and i'm not challenging myself, i'm letting things happen to me and that's not the person i am, which is probably why i feel so unfulfilled.

it's like working at the bux, i ask the same series of questions over and over again until they come out even when i know the answers, like when someone orders two drinks and i ask them their name a second time after writing the first cup, even though the answer is staring me in the face, it's just not in my brain.

it's a complacency that we're forced into, by either our childhood emphasis on delicacy and manners, don't offend, don't ask anyone anything that might make them uncomfortable; or the human fear of rejection: if i ask that question, they might think i'm... weird...

fuck that! we're all fucking weird! people feel rejected when i don't text them back, but it's mostly because i don't know what to say and i don't want them to reject my response, we're all just too scared and sensitive to rejection and what does it matter?

most people don't even reject you unless you actually really stink of something, in which case they tend to just slowly move away.

we all know the rules, but what use is it being scared that people are going to reject what you really think, what you really want to talk about? if they do, then living with them is not worth it at all-- they subscribe so much to the complacency, and they bring you into it, because it's like a cult, living like this. it's seductive, it's comfortable, it seems normative, and after a while it makes it seem like there is no other option, and everyone else who doesn't become part of it seems "crazy," "hippie," "tweaker," when all those are are ways people desperately try to escape what the world has given them.

later in his piece kant writes: "Thus, it is difficult for any individual man to work himself out of the immaturity that has all but become his nature. He has even become fond of this state and for the time being is actually incapable of using his own understanding, for no one has ever allowed him to attempt it. Rules and formulas, those mechanical aids to the rational use, or rather misuse, of his natural gifts, are the shackles of a permanent immaturity."