THEATRE OF THE HEART
in which we learn there is an apt difference between me and you
By:
(Inspired by “Theatre of Coolty” by Duckface)
THREE FIGURES argue in a transitionary HOTEL. Above FIGURE ONE, the words “GOD IS DEAD” appear in sparkly Comic Sans. Above FIGURE TWO, the words “ONE MUST IMAGINE SISPHYUS HAPPY” appear in Arial. Above FIGURE THREE, the words “THERE IS BUT ONE TRULY SERIOUS PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEM AND THAT IS SUICIDE,” appear in Times New Roman.
The HOTEL is in disarray with WATER flooding the area, spilling out to splash the AUDIENCE who are all on their PHONES.
DIRK 1 and DIRK 2 take their places by the invisible FOURTH WALL.
Screams can be heard over the loud beating of their hearts.
CHARACTERS…?
DIRK 1 is an ideological forgotten mascot for someone better. He has triangular shades.
DIRK 2 is a fading memory that’s strengthened by imagination. He has triangular shades.
[According to the cartographic supplement on page 42 section 4.13 by Franz Kafka titled “The Stranger” with scribbles in the margins by someone with no mouth (they must scream), it is shown that…]
…
DIRK 1: Fuckass.
DIRK 2: …What?
DIRK 1: You never know what The Powers that Be will allow in these circumstances.
DIRK 2: It’s not like you’ll get [CENSORED].
DIRK 2: …. Now, why would they censor a word with the same word?
DIRK 1: Again, it’s all about allowance.
The three figures in the background still argue, but nobody can hear their slapstick comedy act.
(However, the water level still rises, soaking the oblivious characters.)
DIRK 1: I’ve been avoiding the subject like a bathroom mirror but… who are you?
DIRK 2: I’m you. Again.
DIRK 1: No.
DIRK 2: What, you can’t just–
DIRK 1: You’re not me.
(DIRK 2 pauses, saying lolwhatthefuckareyouimplying in his head.)
DIRK 1: Sure, you can be a subset of me. But if we are just the concept of awareness trapped in a vessel with automatic likes, fears, and needs, then you are not me. I am not aware of nor in your body.
(DIRK 2 heaves a sigh of relief. He can make the other Dirk suspend his disbelief for a little longer.)
DIRK 2: Yeah, it’s mad crazy, yo. I’m ‘bout to wax poetic misery to your sorry ass.
DIRK 1 (nodding): Please do, but let me plagiarize later as you are insignificant and unimportant.
DIRK 2: I couldn’t have said it any better.
DIRK 1 and 2: After all, who would care?
DIRK 1: So, what’s your grand revelation? Lay it on me.
DIRK 2: Oh, you're just going to love this. None of this is real. It's all just a figment of someone's imagination turned into something shareable.
DIRK 1: … How original.
DIRK 1: That’s the best you could come up with?
DIRK 2: Hey, it's a classic for a reason. Besides, it's not about the concept, it's about the delivery.
(The words “META IS DEAD” flash above them, accompanied by a dramatic drumroll and cheer sound effect.)
DIRK 1: How enlightening… I feel so liberated now… ugh.
DIRK 2: But I do have to admit something.
(A computer cursor hovers over DIRK 2 and slides him over to DIRK 1 with no applied physics.)
DIRK 2: I’m a real person. I made this. My concept of self is nonexistent at this point, so I became bonded to you. I want to be you because that means that I’m someone.
(The water rises.)
DIRK 2: I would kill my old self to look, act, and be you. I need to be someone who’s loved and survived the narrative thrown at them.
(The water rises.)
DIRK 1: What the fuck?
(The water rises.)
DIRK 2: I need… I need to like myself, so let me be my favorite character. I need to be Dirk. I need to be someone I love so I can love myself.
(DIRK 2 is drowning.)
(DIRK 1 is standing on water and wants to walk away with complete apathy.)
DIRK 1: Well, that’s dramatic.
(DIRK 2 struggles in the water, desperately reaching out for something to hold on to.)
DIRK 1: You’re floundering in an ocean of delusion.
DIRK 1: What’s your endgame here? To matter? To exist?
(DIRK 2 is sinking below the waves)
DIRK 1: Because who do you matter to? Who’s your audience?
(The words “AUDIENCE: 0” flash over the chairs left behind in the auditorium.)
DIRK 1: You realize that even if you manage to be me, or at least a version of me, it won't change anything, right? It won't fill the void you're desperately trying to patch.
(DIRK 2 disappears underneath the water. For a moment, there’s silence. There’s mourning.)
DIRK 1: Don’t pretend to be me. Or do, I don’t care. But don’t do it for such pointless reasons.
(The words REVELATION and OBLIVION flash in the glare of DIRK 1’s triangular sunglasses.)
DIRK 1: Dirk 2 is dead, yet one must imagine Dirk 2 happy. But the most important problem is–
(Cut to black.)
(There are screams.)
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