"it's too late" monologue. 1 female, young
2006-09-23 3:53 a.m.

tonight i went to the white trash party. i wore tight, unflattering acid wash jeans.

felt horrendous. my self-hatred of my physical form has been oscilating these past few weeks. i'm okay, no i'm not. i'm great, i'm gross. i'll look at my arm in the reflection of a car window when passing by, and wouldn't you know? i'll say things to myself i wouldn't say to my enemies.

(maybe because my enemies are beautiful.) i'm going to eat some cereal and think seriously about what i should do concerning this matter.

am i so different as i feel? everyone feels different. it must be the human condition to feel unlike the rest of the human population. i'll write about it sometime.

oh who cares whocareswhocares i feel uncomfortable hearing people talk about all their exes. like maybe that's another shameful secret i didn't realize i had to keep.

i just looked at my shape in the window reflection and i decided it looks the way a ziplock bag full of soup plopped down on a hard surface, like a countertop, and maybe sliding off towards the edge, the way that might look.

it always feels like it's too late, but i'm too young for all that.

i sort of think, i could see this going somewhere. but where? really?? where?

what would we do, anyway? i'm incapable. you picked door number 3, the door full of wasps and skeletons and scars and vampire bats and bloody sheets and fleas and battered women crying on hospital beds and the bubonic plague and a bus stop full of homeless, hopeless people.

i don't know what you're like, but who am i kidding? it doesn't matter: i'm not a door that can be opened casually. i'm a fucking consequence that must be considered fully. i'm a faulty inheritance. i'm a fixer-upper, or grounds that require constant care. and all this has nothing to do with my physical form.

but i sometimes wonder if i could make you happy. if we were staging this as a monologue, this would be the part where the actor turns suddenly and there is a mood shift, a beat.

in a parallel universe where our best traits exist but the bad experiences that have shaped our worst traits do NOT exist, you and i are a solid possibility. i wouldn't think twice.