This Title Refers to Itself and, as a Consequence, Accurately Describes this Monologue.

You breathe in.

You breathe out.

You stare at your computer screen for a few seconds. Stunningly, a finished monologue fails to appear. 

You feel apprehensive. You know you have to finish something by tonight. You’ve told your parents time and time again that those projects were already finished; you didn’t have to do anything.

None of it was true. It never is.

The jig is already up. The only thing you’re working for now is to not punt two entire projects in a cloud of early-quarter ennui.

You breathe out.

You breathe in.

(beat)

You’re desperate. You try not to show your panic, but you can feel the goosebumps running down your spine, the familiar chill that overtakes you every time you try to write about yourself.

They said you didn’t have to write about yourself, but you knew better. “All of the best fiction has elements of its writer,” you had thought to yourself. “And besides, my life has so much to write about, and I do so many interesting things. I probably shouldn’t even need to brainstorm!”

You fall into this trap every time. And every time, you are dry of ideas.

And every time, you sit there and think.

And you breathe in.

And you breathe out.

(beat)

Maybe you could write about depression? 

(sigh) You don’t know, the entire topic is so trite and stereotypical; you want your monologue to stand out. You just know they get hundreds of angst-filled rants like that every year; it must sometimes seem as if that’s all that teens can write about.

The voice in the back of your mind speaks. It is the voice that says “This is due in eight hours. You need to do this. You need to get this done.”

It says, “Why not be aware, then?”

You breathe out.

You breathe in.

(beat)

You smile. It’s the smile of a person who knows that they have just narrowly averted a disaster. 

You glance down at the keyboard. For the first time since you started this project, you think you know what you’re doing. Your hands fly over the keyboard as words slowly begin to fill up the page. You don’t need to write a monologue that’s original and self-aware.

(beat)

After all, you’ve already written one.

Comments (5)

Jaiyeola Omowamide (Student 2017)
Jaiyeola Omowamide

The ending was perfect! and I enjoyed the fact that you wrote in second person. It really gets the reader's/audience's attention. I like that fact that it's almost like an interactive monologue in which the reader is being told what to do. Great job! Very original.

Ali Driggers (Student 2017)
Ali Driggers

I like how descriptive you were about the emotions you felt when doing this monologue. It is so real. It is also very well written. You can tell thought and effort was put in to this, even during the last eight hours. That is impressive! This is a great monologue.

Imani Weeks (Student 2017)
Imani Weeks

This was really good. It was so original that you wrote about the natural thought process when writing something for school. I liked how it was second POV instead of the usual first POV.

Arianna Haven (Student 2017)
Arianna Haven

I really liked this! I loved how different it was. I also can totally relate to the feelings you were feeling. I liked that you used second person POV. I understood how frustrated you were, and then happy when you came up with the idea.

Otter Jung-Allen (Student 2017)
Otter Jung-Allen

Loved it! Really original, easy to read, sentences were well structure and the tempo was perfect. I really got into the mind of the narrator, and the second person was very effective. Great job!