Written originally for English Communications, a Stage 2 subject, during 2005.

Monologue

I am a monologue. I am very boring, and I’m just a lot of random words comprised together to help someone called ‘Marcus’ pass English Communications. I have no control over what words are written in me, and for that, I am angered and frightened – what will this ‘Marcus’ write within me? I hope it’s not something embarrassing, because I think I’m going to get marked then moderated. I can imagine it now; several hundred more words will be written in me, then I’ll be good enough to hand up to his teacher… then I’ll be marked. I’m not looking forward to that; too much pressure put upon me. She’ll go through me with a fine comb – trying to find flaws within this page. My page. She’ll look at me with those judgemental eyes – trying to figure out why I’m all about myself. Why am I all about myself? Well, Marcus told me that it’s because he thought it’d seem more “artistic” or something – an artist writing about himself through the guise of a monologue. But, that’s not fair to me – why should I be his scapegoat? Then, I’ll be eventually sent of to a moderator – and she’ll look at me with even more judgemental eyes; trying to figure out how the hell I came to be, and why on Earth I was given a mark of… 19/20…

Seriously, I’m nothing special – the biggest “wow factor” that I have is that I’m written in the font of “Trebuchet MS”… woopie. Size 12 – ooooh. A4 page – man, I just keep getting more exciting… I get the feeling that Marcus is slowing down with his writing now; writer’s block is starting to set in. Imagination is fading… Poor guy, he’s still got roughly 300 more words to go before he reaches his desired goal of 500 words. Oh my god, now he’s talking to people in the class – not even paying any attention to me. Oi! Marcus! Focus! Attention back on me!!! Ahhh, there we go. I swear, I think I’m an attention seeker; always wanting people to read me – I need verification and validation, people. C’mon! Oooh, Marcus, don’t forget to save me; I don’t want the computer to crash and then I’m lost forever – dead, sent to the cyber abyss like so many of my predecessors. But if I’m printed off then I may face immortality. Man, the paradoxes and possibilities are endless.

I think I’m drawing to a close now; I can feel it. Marcus knows how to end “his monologue” and he’s going to do it with ease. His fingers fly over the keys of the keyboard, barely even touching them – words are pouring into me. I’m starting to feel whole; fulfilled. Ohh, it’s drawing near. Closer… Closer… Closer… Ahhh, and there’s the euphoria.