passion v.s. reason: a play written and directed by the human condition

i wrote this in fall when i was new to the "real world" i was plopped into and frustrated and confused with its reasoning... not much has changed really. anyway i completely forgot all about this and i kinda like it so im posting it. it is in no way meant to be an actual play.

act 1 scene 1

(a mid-upper class boy runs away from the suburbs to start his own life. he sits down to rest under a sign post at a fork in the path he is traveling. he has no clue which direction to continue as his mind wanders off trying to decide. meanwhile his left lobe loyally records the moment.)

left brain: dear diary, i had to drop out of collage today. do you know why i had to drop out? because i procrastinated paying my tuition. why did i procrastinated paying my tuition? because im vain. im vain and i spent all my money on things i wanted but did not need. well im broke now and im looking for a job. do you know why i cant find a job? because im lazy. im lazy and find it hard to care. why do i find it hard to care? because i have a billion problems and imperfections yet i accept everyone of them. i am happy. i am content. but thats not good enough for them. they say i should get a job. why? so i can go to collage. why? so i can learn to spell collage. why? so i can get a better job. why? so i can buy things i want but do not need. why? to be happy. to be content.

act 1 scene 2

(meanwhile, in the neighboring lobe, right brain processes the same thought)

right brain: a thousand puppies chase their tales. one puppy, whether by miracle or curse, was born with its tail already in its mouth. It didnt know what to do. it cant be with the other puppys the way things are. it had to choose. keep the tail or find a way to chase it with the rest?

act 2 scene1

(by now the boy is almost fully asleep. back in the left lobe left brain continues to talk with its diary, which is receiving enough delta waves to talk back.)

left brain: couldnt i spend my money and time on books instead of collage? (among them a dictionary)

diary: well yes (as long as you dont forget the dictionary) but where and how would you live?

left brain: on a farm, working for the things i need.

diary: how extreme. how lonely.

left brain: a sacrifice indeed. but this synthetic place we call the real world, is it not as well? albeit more of a preset?

left brain and diary together: why must there always be a choice? what ever happened to compromise? harmony?

act 2 scene 2

(over in the right lobe right brain interprets the thought in its own way, using images more often then speech)

right brain: the puppy learned it could not eat with a tail in its mouth and starved to death.

(alternate ending?)

right brain: the puppy went to college, got a phd, gave himself surgery, and chased with the other puppies (happily?) ever after.

act 2 scene 3

(in the opposite lobe left brain continues its now deep musings with diary, who doesnt really exist as more than a plot mechanic and is now (seemingly) all knowing)

left brain: what is happiness?

diary: happiness is the answer to all. it is golden. it is stashed in a chest and hidden some place secret. it is the treasure we all seek.

left brain: what is philosophy?

diary: philosophy is the question to all. it is a blessing and a curse. it is discouraged from children at an early age. it is the map to the answer.

left brain: in this world the two dont live side by side?

diary: no. it is a civil war we must strive to end.

act 2 scene 4

(back in the right lobe. all images.)

right brain: a projector casts an image on a giant bubble. a thousand puppies are shown with their tails in their mouths.

pop.

fin

ghosting

sometimes im grateful that there are drugs in the world so other people can do them and bring me wonderful things like this video. other times im ungrateful cause i realize how hard it will be for someone like me to ever live up such things.

there is only one tree on the moon,

and its where i go to read my books, and eat my lunch, and be or do what ever seems most possible, or impossible, depending on how im feeling that day, or night, depending on the position of the sun, or moon on which i stand, depending on how you look at it, which, it seems, is what it all comes down to really. life is all about perspective, or the lack there of, which is what i was trying to say from the start, but didnt, because im feeling very comma abusive, because they were very unkind to me in highschool, and still are to this day, or night, depending on the position of the sun, or the earth on which you, or i, or who ever is reading this, stands, or sits, or lies, or floats, depending on said persons preference of comfort, or discomfort, depending on there perspective on the matter, which, it seems, matters, or doesnt, depending on itself. like you and like me.