In my youth events appeared happier, my eyes were filled with stars and my vision filled with flowery images. My skin was soft and I was apt to occasional tempers.

However with time I was changed. I was strengthened and my temper more subdued. I was now a mother of many. I watched with pride at the growth of my children, and openly welcomed a stranger as my friend.

With the years that followed I watched helplessly as my children were destroyed by the being I called a friend. Ripped was my womb as he greedily uncovered his mortal treasures. In return he left behind destruction.

He declared war upon his own kind and lit great bonfires to dry the blood spilt by me. I begged him many a time "please friend rescue me, I am dying" yet he ignored my pleas. He lit up his toxic pipe and grinned wickedly at my deterioration. The bodies of my children fuelled his pipe, the fumes stung the many cuts and gashes upon my being.

I am overwhelmed by the angry fires of his kind and shed my protective blanket. I am dying and as I take my last breathe so will the plague of Men.

I guess what I'm saying is you know when you love someone, even though you may not know how to express, show, demonstrate it.

Thoughts...drifting into reality.

A bee said to the flower "Hmmm you look good for a suck". Now what boys and girls is the moral of that statement? That's right...If ever you run out of good things to use as your sig. write something nonsensical, which will ineviteably turn out to be rude anyway. Now toddle off and have some fun. :)

The ever present memory of squeaky shafts of light enter the revolutions of my mind. Echos of what I was answer an unspoken call and memories shift and stir to life - to the cold, crisp and grey reality of night. I view my progress from the point of my conception to the moment of now.

Have I truly grown?, the real me?, the me that will be immortal when my mortality comes? Has my soul changed?, expanded?, shrunken?, or stayed the SAME?

My soul is mine, but also not my own. It has worn the flesh of others before me. My soul is continuous with time, with space, with the stars...I am a star.

My soul was the dust of the stars, breathed life by the wind and given flesh by the earth. I am the product of nature, the son of evolution, the daughter of all life.

Within me there is another universe. Within that universe there is another me. Perhaps not the same me, but a me created by the stars and destined to soar to new heights.

I am like fireworks, bottled, stored, lit, and allowed my time of brilliance and beauty and I return to the ashes. I return to the dust. The dust - the origin. The dust of the stars, the breath of the wind, the flesh of the earth and I live again. I am immortal. I am content. I am enraged. I am peace, I am fury, I am old age, I am birth, I am man, I am bee, I am spider, I am seed.

I am cyclic - I do continue. I am you, I am everything. I am life, I am soul, I am spirit, I am hope.

I have spent many a night talking...sharing my anguish and sorrow with close friends. I guess I have been weak in that I rely on their strength to help me through this...adding my problems to their own.

But I am without strength...I am lifeless, listless...a mere shadow of what I was.

Every morning, I dread the thought of Uni...knowing subconsciously that "perhaps we will meet today"...and my body goes into convulsions from the anxiety. The nausea that takes hold, has seen me vomitting for hours until there is nothing left...I dryreach.

Insomnia takes hold...

I think, I turn things over in my head...I imagine a better outcome. Always my outcomes are of us together, happy. And each time I gather my thoughts and face reality I am saddened because in reality we are not together, and I at least am not happy...

Speaking is supposed to help you heal. I have said so many words, cried so many tears...yet why am I not healed? Why don't I feel any better...why can't I smile because I am happy, and not to mask some inner turmoil for fear of discomforting another?

I go through stages of hysteria, laughing at nothing, and everything, presenting myself as being incredibly joyous, and carefree. Though unbeknown to others I am hiding my fears, because I know that if I don't laugh, and keep up the laughter I will break down and cry...cry myself to exhaustion...and sleep, a dead sleep only to awake just as tired, just as drained, just as unhappy as I was before my slumber.

I wander around, aimlessly...not knowing what to do with myself, and yet refusing to let others know this is what I am doing... Hiding I guess behind an act. I am an actor...I present a facade to the world. It is one, of an individual coping with the stresses of separation...when in actual fact I am falling apart internally. Whithering away...away into nothingness...empty...

Loneliness coupled with childlike hope....

"Like a silhouette that passes by unnoticed in the dark. Living our lives at the very edges of reality, and unreality. Trying to define a space for ourselves...our fantasies, where we are the actors, and our lives played out to an imaginary audience. We laugh, we cry, we create magic. Then the realisation dawns upon us...sometimes hysterical, sometimes touching...always heartbroken" -she says.

Comment

It is hoped that once you have read it, you too will begin to see the world around in a new light, and begin to question yours and others actions as well.

Sincerely,
The playwright

The Play

Characters

A - Gender neutral with no specific age, race, or background B - Gender neutral with no specific age, race, or background

A: I saw you yesterday.
B: No, I saw you the day before, you were away yesterday.
A: Where was I yesterday?
B: Somewhere.
A: What was I doing?
B: Something.
A: What?
B: Some...I can't remember...nothing.
[Pause]

A: I was dreaming yesterday-
B: All day?-
A: About the country and how beautiful-
B: You can't have dreamt all d-
A: Everything is!
B: What?
A: Everything is beautiful.
B: Not everything.
A: Yes everything, especially...you-
B: Nothing.
[Pause]

B: I was alone yesterday, and the day before. I will be alone again tomorrow
A: What will you do?
B: Something...maybe dream about today.
A: I'm dreaming about he present.
B: I'm not dreaming. I'm living a nightmare.
[Pause]

B: Why is everything beautiful?
A: Because...it just is.
B: Why? Tell me, why?
A: No. You know why!
[Pause]

A: Why is the sky blue?
B: I don't know.
A: Why is grass green?
B: Because...
A: What?
B: I don't know.
[Pause]

B: Why do birds fly?
A: Why do they fly?
B: Why are apples bruised?
A: Why do we question?
[Pause]

B: The sky is blue because we are blue.
A: I know.
B: The grass is green because we are jealous of nature.
A: I see.
B: What. What do you see?
A: Nothing, only...nothing.
[Pause]

A: Birds fly because they are free.
B: Freedom.
[Pause]

A[Reflecting]: When we peel an apple we can see the bruised flesh.
But when we strip the human psyche do we see the bruised pride?
B: Answers-
A: Stop this-
B: I will stop-
A: No, continue...please.
[Pause]

[A looks at B. B does not move or speak]
A: I'm tired. I need coffee.
B: White or black?
A: Black.
B: Sugar?
A: No, salt!
B: Salt?
A: Yes, salt. Four please.
[B measures out a teaspoon of salt and sprinkles it around A.
Repeats three times]
A: Thank-you.
[Pause]

B: It's so dark in here.
A: I'll switch off the light.
B: No, switch it on.
[A switches off the light, and lights a candle]
B: I can't see anything.

A[Holding candle towards B]: Go on, make a wish.
B: I wish for light [Blows out the candle]
[Darkness, Pause]

A: Life!
B: Death.
A: Hope.
B: Despair.
A: End...
B: Beginning.
A: Journey...
B: Quest.
A: Searching-
B: For what?-
A/B[together]: We plunder the earth. We become earth, and are trampled by our own feet. Pour me the salt, to drown sour wound, and bring me my happy memories. [Gradually louder] Memories. Memories. Memories. Memories. Memories. Sleep! [Silence]

END

The feeling of loneliness: I felt emotionally/mentally denied. I search for life's meanings. What is the meaning of life? What is important in life? Do I want to grow up too fast? Will I ever know the meaning of life anyway?

I feel sometimes that I am surrounded by love and attention by my family and peers, but my heart is a `cold stone'. I feel a sense of helplessness/hopelessness. If I dwell on this special fear I'll probably destruct - ensure my failure. I feel isolated, afraid to start. Then despondency takes over and defeats my motivation. It takes much self-talk to get myself going again.

I am a perfectionist. Sometimes this a lonely state / sometimes a creative one.

Then there is loneliness that we create by our thoughts. Do we create our loneliness by not admitting our feelings/beliefs to others. We build our own barrier - a self-imposed fortress of loneliness. Should we feel inadequate if we feel lonely, or regard feeling lonely as a more positive experience. Loneliness allows us the opportunity to reflect on all sorts of issues, learn about our inner most feelings and beliefs, to create and explore the creative side of your personalities.

We both desire and dread loneliness. Our emotions about loneliness are in conflict. We know we need to be alone at times but we fear isolating ourselves in too much "aloness". Loneliness means that you are freed from the confusion and complications of others' lives. Most people view loneliness as a crisis - that it can lead the down dangerous paths.

Returning of possessions, retrieval of all that we own, yet a part of me I leave with thee...a memory to my sweet prince.

I cradle your photos close to my heart. Unwilling to believe this is the end; that we are parted. When the love I held for you, its life but just started.

Tender are your ways...always.

I must let you go, set you free...although it does hurt me...

To an Earthling, the acts of courting will at times appear incomprehensible, to a non-gender-specific-non-Earthling the acts of Human courting will ALWAYS appear incomprehensible, but in writing this briefing it is one's intentions to unravel much of the enigma. At bars(1), discos, and nightclubs where the regular patrons are males and females (Homo sapiens are a non-hermaphroditic species) of reproductive years(2), the affects of rotating lights and a seemingly moving dance floor, plus the influence of the subconscious can be observed. It should be understood that these affect males and females differently, it is possibly a biological difference between the two sexes, or it may be that males' behaviour in general is more closely linked to its ancestral past than the females' is.

Floods of coloured light and a rotating dance floor activate the subconscious of Homo sapiens, and enables the otherwise secret rites to surface and be performed. To make the task of explaining, easier to follow one will present the effects "disco fever" has on the behaviour of both males and females, however one at a time. To be fair and completely non-sexist one will first give a general account of the females' experiences in this complex procedure.

In general the atmospheric pressures within the cranium of a disco fever sufferer is much higher, which accounts for the lack of oxygen to the brain which in turn induces them to do uncharacteristic "things". For instance the female Homo sapien who is perhaps the most talented mimic in the animal kingdom, in that she can assume the guise of any animal at will, will make herself up in close imitation to the Neanderthal women, that is frizzy hair, and often leopard or tiger print clothes. The pressure on her cerebrum affects her judgement and so she will use products such as perfumes, lipsticks, eye liners and mascaras, in a highly theatrical manner, to enlarge, accentuate and sometimes even distort her own features. The purpose of the perfume is to heighten the males awareness of the female's presence, which could be traced to early man's sense of smell as a means of sexual attraction(3). Likewise the lipstick is used to imitate the natural pinky red colour of the lips when the individual is aroused. The intention of eye liners wand mascaras is to achieve the wide eyed helpless look which promotes a feeling of protection toward he female. However individuals known as friends(4) (sometimes referred to as "blood sucking leeches", or "human parasites") can affect the females' artistic judgement and consequently her product after hours of careful execution.

It should be understood that the female is very much the predator and not the prey, contrary to what the eye make up may suggest to the male victim, and at the disco she will make her presence known by parading in front of her intended catch. However if at first this does not give her the results she wants, she may then proceed to the next phase which involves dance, but this is the less ideal choice as it has the ability to attract the attention of other less desirable males. In the dance sequence the female will assume the hypnotic likeness of the snake, moving in slow regular rhythms which after a while seems to leave an impact on he male species. And like all predators, when the female has paralysed her prey she will then come in for the kill. Whilst the male is still not in full possession of his senses the female will claim him as her own, which in the most severe cases could lead to a Human established institution known as marriage(5).

The male variation of this ritual is much more complicated in that it involves the use of "speech". Once again the setting for this rite is the bar/nightclub however the males' dominion as predator is not in the dance floor, therefore the main body of males on the hunt can generally be spotted anywhere away from the dance floor area. An area highly favoured by prowling males is the bar or seating area where he is likely to encounter a lone or weak female. Whilst the females are apt mimics, the males' ability tend to lie upon the use of opportunity and alcohol. After the intake of alcohol, the females' co-ordination and judgement become noticeably poorer, the male takes advantage of this fact by nearly always offering a lone female a drink. After the female finally agrees, to rid herself of his persistent voice, the male will wait until he is sure she is well and truly under the influence of the drink before he attempts one of the two acts, "macho" or "come on lines" on her. Given that alcohol clogs the mind, the female is vulnerable when intoxicated because an act, when she is in full control of her senses can only be described as "moronic", may appear to be particularly "witty" or "clever" when she is drunk, henceforth the female can be seen laughing herself hysterical over a knock-knock joke, or a male crushing aluminium cans on his forehead. The Neanderthal complex has seen many a red blooded male literally sweep his lady off her feet and carry her into the sunset, despite her kicking and screaming, as well as seen the males' normally perfectly eloquent speech turn to a series of grunts and snorts when he speaks to a female.

The male is not uncouth, but rather just does not understand the female. But he is a romantic at heart (a concept related to love and sex and reproduction) and given he has found his soul mate, he will serenade her with his sweet voice and proclaim his love to her for all to hear. It is one's hope that this account of Human dating behaviours has cleared some if not all the mystery that had surrounded it.

(1) Bars - not to be confused with flat oblong objects or metal rods in prison cells.

(2) Reproductive years - A grey haze in human understand, but generally place at the above age obtained by multiplying their birth hour by 9.8906, + or - 76/9 and divided by the speed of light all over the number of fillings they have. Not to be confused with taxation procedures.

(3) Sexual attraction - A feeling characterised by a lump in the throat, a rumble in the stomach, and swimming sensation in the head. Not to be confused with the symptoms of influenza.

(4) Friends - The people who always wave at you for no apparent reason. Not to be confused with parents.

Presently, the boy stepped under the dim light of an unfriendly street lamp. A shaft of prying light pierced through his shock of auburn curls to cast light upon his face. He was of regular features, but for his startling blue eyes, which expressed a mixture of pain, defiance, and loneliness. A look which was alien upon the countenance of one so young of age.

He faltered a step, as sounds of shouting erupted in the distance. As the sounds grew closer, he hurriedly turned into one of the many side streets he called home. The shouting sparked sounds and bitter memories to surface from the gloomy depths of his mind.

He recalled the image of a woman smiling down at him as she cradled him in her arms. He recalled also the feelings of contentment, and safety that came with it. He recalled a large man, releasing his frustrations on a frightened child.

Scared and insecure, he wanted desperately for the woman to come and take him back in her arms, and protect him against harm. But despite the crying out, and the infantile tantrums, the woman did not come. He recalled man more occasions of a child pressed hard against a corner, and a man towering unmercifully over him, and each time he would call for the woman, the only familiar figure in the child's life.

But each time she would not come, he was on his own. Since then he had known only the brutal impact of calloused hands, and the sting of angry words, like arrows implanted deep in his being.

He broke away from painful recollections to see a man, drunken by appearance, lying grotesquely in the gutter before him. His covering, an old trench coat, plagued with holes, but foreign to careful repair.

The man too, he concluded was on his own, and no blood kin he knew of to turn to. He was alone, an orphan. Suddenly forlorn, he pondered his own fate. In time will he be just another drunken form in the gutters, intoxicated to escape the harsh reality of survival in the back streets?

He felt sorry for the man, but immediately reproached himself, as he knew life on the wrong side of the tracks meant each one for himself, as there was little love to go around.

The boy stepped over the stirring form and walked on. He stopped when he reached a large cardboard box at the end of the alley. He slowly seated himself down under its shelter, and looked up, his face a mask of loneliness, as he waited for the ever present fog to reclaim him.....