FADE IN: two men.
And then I would be a cis hetero male.
What does that mean?
I am a person whose gender identity and biological sex assigned at birth, align.
So, no more calling yourself straight guy?
There’s also agender; we refer to them as “them”. They see themselves as existing without gender.
And we have a queer and a couple of lesbians.
Gone are the days when I used to say, “we’re here, we’re queer, let’s go have a beer.”
Yeah, you can’t say that anymore cuz you’re not queer and you’re making a joke at the expense of a queer.
But I’m not, really.
No, I get it, it’s just times are changing.
FADE IN: a couple who have been arguing.
Let’s pretend for a while. Let’s be two different people with different pasts and different heartaches.
What are you talking about?
Let’s forget we’re fighting and pretend we don’t know each other. “Hey there,” (he smiles)
“How’s the coffee?”
I’m not playing this stupid game
“That’s a pretty dress.”
“Thank you,” (she mutters as she rolls her eyes)
“Got something special happening today?”
“Nope, just waiting for my boyfriend to wake the fuck up.”
“Oh, he’s a late sleeper?”
“No, he’s a dickhead who can’t see what’s in front of him.”
“Well, if he forgets to tell you, know that you heard it from me: you look beautiful.”
(she looks away)
“You are beautiful.”
Stop it (she looks away again)
“Can I get you a blueberry muffin to go with your coffee?”
A BAR. NIGHT.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
He leans in throwing caution to the wind this time.
She tilts her head back and guffaws.
He repeats his line, thinking it’ll be funny the second time.
It isn’t, but she stares into his eyes just the same.
Complex everything, this woman. Like a cat.
He looks away with a smirk – she’s into me.
He takes a swig of his scotch, cool like that, and asks for the check, “It’s on me,” he tells her.
Her red, half full.
“You heading out,” she asks.
“I thought we could, uh…” he smirks.
She stares at him. That cat again.
He smiles at her.
“I’m going to finish my wine.”
“Sure. I’ll, uh,” he sits back down.
“Cheers,” she says as she sips her red.
FADE IN: a woman at the mic in a bar.
I just woke up one day and thought, “I don’t want to do this anymore.” It hit me like a ton of bricks. I wanted to kill my supervisor, is what I wanted to do. And the only reason why I haven’t already done so is cuz I can’t drive my new car in jail.
Yup, I shop.
I’m a complete consumer and I described that as poverty deprivation.
“I need that because it’s going to do something wonderful to my life,” or “Ooooooh, that’s shiny” or “Oh, I know that’ll come in handy one day.”…. and then that shit just sits there. The Amazon Echo Dot? Don’t get it. Waste of your time and money.
What I want is travel and to do things that don’t pertain to products.
I want experiences.
I want to face fears and follow my gut.
I want the Unknown, even though it scares the Holy BeJesus outta me.
But right now
I can’t because I’m always in poverty deprivation, buying and buying and buying.
There’s a calling inside of me.
I can feel it.
But the not knowing makes me cling to what is tangible, the little things that bring little comfort right now, and eventually finds itself in my garage.
In a box. With a box, within a box.
I’m 50 years old.
Someone is pressing fast forward on my recorder, man.
I feel a calling.
A tiny voice,
And I wanna bring that to life.
I need to think outside the box.
Get out of the garage inside my head.
Step away from my computer, and outside my door.
Take some Unknown steps.
Yup, that’s me.
FADE IN: a man talks into a camera.
Uh, I’m being inarticulate. You just gotta be focused. You gotta be clear in what you want and why. This world is changing. And it’s not looking good. You know.
NPR did this story about the Survivalists among the rich. These guys have built underground bunk-like-houses for the next “apocalypse”. They’re speculating a full-blown civil war. Billionaires have gone out and bought secret get-aways with generators and solar paneling, specifically for Doom’s Day. You know Reddit online? The fuckin’ chief officer carries with him a survivalist bag – canned goods, water, ammunition, maps. Another superrich dude went out and got laser eye surgery simply because he fears supplies will eventually dry up. I mean, yeah, who gives a fuck about his eye surgery, that’s not the point. Listen to what he’s sayin’.
They’re sniffin’ the shit and it don’t smell right. And who are they? The movers and shakers of our world.
Everything that’s happenin’ with Trump and China and Russia; the environment, mass shootings, the increasing black and white tension, – it’s not looking good.
But, that’s the point I’m trying to make. We can’t get upset about it anymore, we’re way past that.
Nah man. The breakdown of society or at least a catastrophic earthquake is just around the corner. And now’s the time to get really crystalized in what you want and why you want it. So, what’s your Why?
FADE IN: woman and man.
She: I was in a Uber car, well, really Lyft but you get what I mean. Jamal, my driver, asked me what I do. I said nothing. No really, I said, “Nothing,” all nonchalant and shit. He took a second to understand, much like me, really, I mean who says that?
I said nothing. Ugh. What kind of despicable human, am I?
A week later, I’m at this yoga retreat and someone asked me again. I was just about to answer Nothing, when I stopped myself and took a gulp of my piping hot apple cider, burning my mouth. And I pretended I didn’t hear him, or maybe I pretended to react like I was still thinking about what we just talked about. I looked stupid, is all. Well, if I’m not sure what your intentions are, I’m going to blow you off.
I know damn well who I am. Why is it hard to say it, “Who me? Oh, sure, I’m an artist.” Or, “What do I do? I do greatness. I am greatness.”
Mohammed Ali would say “I’m the greatest,” so why can’t I?
Continue reading “the great unknown”
FADE IN: brother and sister sit on the bathroom floor. Sister wipes away tears, brother comforts her.
You remember when I threw that rock at your head.
Ha. How can I fuckin’ forget.
I couldn’t believe how much blood came outta there.
What about how much pain I was in?
[Haha] I thought I killed ya.
It felt like you did.
Continue reading “bull’s eye”