I don't have the script to this movie. Was that my cue? I don't knew where to come in, which direction to exit. Lines? Oh, this is a speaking role. I didn't know that, either.

What do you want from me? Do you want me to rip my soul out and show it to you? Do you want to hear about the asshole in queue ahead of me at the grocery store? Would you care if I sat here and jibbered about nothing more crucial than the texture of Wee Babe's bowel movements for seventeen minutes? Can I rip my hair out and scream and smash things? Would you be offended? Can I be irrational and angry at a man I haven't dared set eyes on in eight years? Am I allowed to do anything?

_{(The audience is listening.)}

I'm insane. Surprised? Maybe. I didn't take drama so many years and learn nothing. I am compleatly insane, and you'll never know. Always something worse than what I say. Don't forget. Turn this way, turn that way. Cross your eyes and count to three. Boo. I'm not stupid. I'm not Herr Deutscher. I'm not stroking my ego in the balcony of a Castro theatre just so's I can be caught.

Do you really think I'm that fucking stupid? Give me a little bit of credit. I don't wear black because it suits me; I wear black so you don't see me.

_{(All cats are grey. For a reason.)}

TD says I'm not insane. I rolled my eyes when he wasn't looking. Nice snap judgement. 24 minutes plus commercials and everyone lives happily after til next week. 1-900 and Deal-A- Meal. When the lights go down, strike the set, call it a wrap, go home and beat your kids. Real life is boring. Real people are boring. Everyone's got their fingers in someone else's pie, and we're all talking about the weather.

That'll be $150, please. Cash? No problem. Cheque? Sure, why not. Just don't forget to bring your VISA card because they don't take American Express.

Why bother being sarcastic? Why waste all that energy? Just lie. It's so much easier. That way, the ones that believe you will have deserved it, and the ones that don't can beat the shit out of you and call it even. I'd better get me some platinum-plated, steel-reinforced, diamond-studded boxing gloves. I got some beatings to deal.

I don't believe anything or anyone. Not 100%. Not ever.

Not even myself. You never know what lies I've told Me. Never can be too sure. That life, she's so subjective, so in-the-moment.

Maybe my past wasn't that bad. Maybe I am too dramatic, too sensitive, too too. Always someone worse off than you are. Stop your whining and complaining. Shit or get off the pot. Shut up shut up shut up.

Welcome to the real world. Would you like decaf lo-cal animal-safe planet-friendly fries with that?

You know, I don't even care anymore.