A collection of Monologues

A face, for your convenience.

The truth is, I hate going outside. Outside, I have to be someone, I have to do things and I have to be nice about it all. Or at least that’s what the world tells me to do.

Oh you’ve got to go out, meet people and experience the world. That’s healthy, they say.

Meeting people eh?

Experience the world huh?

People are cruel, this I know. The world is a bitter experience that will not hesitate to kick you right in the proverbial nuts.

After you finally shake of the pain and decide to get up, it’ll kick you again.

This is where I’m not like most people, I’ll stay down because the pain is too hard to handle and even if no one will notice me when I’m down, belly flat to the hard soil, I’m alright with that.

Because people are cruel, this I know.

And in my years of life on the wretched planet, I think I’ve had just enough of the world thank you very much.

So I’ll stay down here, I won’t venture outside, I won’t get back up, I’ll stay and I’ll watch others run the pathetic struggle and if you so happen to see little old me, with my face grimy and mucky from having my head in the mud, I’ll smile.

I’ll show you a face for your convenience.

I’ll keep doing so until you’re gone and when you turn to walk, I know you’ll never look back at me.

That’s alright with me.

People are cruel, the world is cruel.

So let me keep my head down and don’t you dare drag me up from the dust.

Because although it gets in my eyes and I can’t see, I’ll wrap myself in a little warped cocoon of happiness and tell myself I don’t need too.

Since there’s nothing down here to see.

So see my face, smile and walk on, because I’m smiling at your convenience.

So don’t you dare drag me up from the dust.