Buddy
This is the discussion spot for Buddy.
Past Observations:
- What if the amnesiac was Buddy’s husband (as in the letter)?
Past Observations:
- What if the amnesiac was Buddy’s husband (as in the letter)?
posted by Dustin at 1:07 p.m.
9 Comments:
- Buddy is a woman, Amnesiac is her husband.
- Passive, hard to hurt, things happen to her.
- She has escaped time by ignoring her surroundings.
- What is she one moment that she pushes away?
What happens when Buddy and Amnesiac find eachother?
Do Buddy and Amnesiac find each other? How long with it take for the audience to establish that they are in fact looking for each other? maybe that is the realization. I think that Buddy and Amnesiac work together in the piece, but i'm not convinced that they are literally eachother's husband and wife, or whatever, in their real lives. They may both just be experiencing the same situation, but are at opposite ends of it.
Buddy represents the past. She has escaped time by refusing to move forward and work with it. She is a mass of clutter; old love letters, photographs, things to remind her of her life and who she is..instead of having nothing material to show for herself at all but being out there and living her life instead.
I am exactly what you see. there are no surpises. nothing new.
i used to be a mystery to some people...but i lost that a long time ago. now i'm only a mystery to myself.
i have no clue who i am.
eversince he left i started drinking tea. i dont drink tea. i mean, well, we didn't drink tea. we only drank coffee. and now i like tea.
who have i become?
I remember kissing a boy in the park once. i didn't know him, and he didn't know me. we were playing tag together, and when he caught me, i kissed him. i'd never felt so free before. it was empowering. i felt special. he ran away with his cheeks blushed and a big smile on his face. why can't it always be that easy?
Now, I used to see him after work, and I'd be afraid to give him a hug. afraid that his arms would be limp in mine. afraid he wouldn't want me to touch him.
when did it become like that?
i'd lie awake at night pretending to be asleep when i wasn't, just so he wouldn't worry about me. i'd lay awake for hours sometimes. i still do. i can't sleep, but i can't think. i can't dream, but i can't wake up.
what the fuck is wrong with me?
Notes from Last Session:
- Pathetic.
- "What happened to me?" Stuck.
- What was she like before this incident?
- No Strong Choices - just follows along.
- In love with the idea of love - her and Amnesiac were not soulmates.
Sometimes I really do think I could throw a big black blanket over the sky and never see another sunrise again. i hate sunrises. they make me cry.
When I was little, I used to wander around Wychwood Park, near my home. It was a small privately owned piece of land with tons of beautiful houses on it, all lived in by families. there was a lagoon in the middle of the park, and two swans who lived in it every spring and summer. I hopped the fence once with a friend. we wanted to see the swans, and to touch one. They were so beautiful and elegant, but when I reached out my hand, the bird almost bit all my fingers off.
My parents were divorced when I was three. I can't remember them together. i have one brother from my mother's previous marriage. he's eight years older than me, and he moved out when he was seventeen. so i pretty much consider myself an only child. my dad is happily married now with another woman, and my mom drinks. i thought it could actually be different for me. That I would find 'the one', and he'd sweep me off my feet, and carry me away to a beautiful house where we would make love and make babies, and live happily together forever and ever. forever and ever and ever...and never, would i have to call missing persons because i am too afraid to fess up to the idea that he has run away on me.
Buddy-Gurl does not have a soulmate. Her soul mate is every lost soul out there. she is the type of girl to dye her hair blonde, then red, then back to basic brown the next week. She doen't get it. Her eyes are closed. Is it her fault, or just a shitty deal she's been handed? I'm not sure. I think probably a mixture of both, things have never gone her way. she's a victim of bad luck.
BUDDY”S BIT OF SCRIPT
All abbreviations of name are fairly obvious, Anon is Anonymous, Amne is Amnesiac, PO is Promised One, FWO is Flawed Wise One, S is Seeker, T is Tyrant, and B is for BUDDY!
Start:
Anon I hate being here. I hate this fucking place. Just… just, just stop. No no… you’re right I am not in pain, not hungry, althought I am a little tired. I just want to move, to be free of… Do you ever feel trapped?
PO Yes, ofcourse I do. What traps you though? I don’t think it’s the same as my cage.. not the SAME as my cage.
B Entrapment. You feel that right in your chest, the tightness.
Amne I think sometimes people set up traps for themselves, sometimes.
FWO Did you know that entrapment means to catch in or trap but also to lure into danger? Are you luring me into something?
PO ARGH! Just shut up. You all speak and speak., Life isn’t a fucking talking-heads dialogue. I can’t even see you, maybe I’m going insane. I can’t feel anything, ugh. It’s, I’m a puppet.
T I hold the stings. Fancy that, you didn’t even fell me tugging. Can you feel me now?
B You say you didn’t ask for this. What a luxury it is to ask for things. I want dreams. I can not fall asleep anymore. I can not dream. I want dreams of magical places, I want out of body dreams, timeless dreams. I cannot sleep because my dreams destroy me. I can not sleep because I must forget. I dream of sleep without dreams.
S When dreams blur with consciousness what have you then?
Amne I daresay that you people are just going crazy. Thinking that we are puppets? And I thought I was a little… a little… a little… what was I saying?
S YOU! You trailed off. I don’t know your name… but you were just about to show me the way, I know it. Continue.
FWO Continue
Amne Hello? Continue what? Did I miss a story? A bedtime story? What’s it about?
B Oh I love stories. Somebody tell a pretty bedtime story.
FWO Yes please do.
Amne Oh allright, I’ll tell a story. Once upon a time. There was a very blue planet. This planet had other sister and brother planets that liked to revolve around it. And as one year passed on the planet, several hundred years passed on its brother’s and sister’s surfaces. And what else was there in the story?.. oh yes. The end.
B You used to put your head on my shoulder. I would be reading. Pretending it was nothing. But my heart was beating fast. I loved having you nested in the crook of my shoulder. Hair tickling my neck. I loved feeling your presence. I loved the butterflies. And now that you are gone. I can’t cast away this last image that I have of you without losing something of myself. I want to tell everyone about you but they won’t believe me. I can tell you anything though. Even though you are gone. I’ll keep you locked away forever. Safe from the world. From prying eyes.
FWO Without dreams. Without hope. Without a faint glimmer of anything but what is in front of you. I wish I could change something, anything for you. But I can’t.
B I need to wander. To relax a little and unwind. He calls now. He does. Every night. Same channel. Same hullo. Same everything. One night I am just not going to answer. Wait and see. Let it ring. And ring. And ring. Until it silences itself. Somehow I forget his name. I swear. I swore I would never forget it. Not after what happened. A pain so deep it confounded all senses. But here I am, only remembering that he will call.
Amne The darkness was strange, for me, right from the start. I’m not comfortable anymore. I want to get out of here. There’s something wrong about being here. There’s something wrong about being here.
B Do you think so? I think it’s nice. There’s bluebirds here and bluebells. I can see the sunrise.
S I have the coffee. Milk and Sugar. Mugs. If you can find me you can get some. Who was it smelt the coffee? Try to move towards that memory.
B I can’t hear the background over the din. Someone said that a minute ago didn’t they? I can’t get that out of my head. I wish somebody would call me. He used to call, everyday. He’d be so happy just to hear my voice.
S Sometimes it’s easy to figure out who is toying with you and sometimes not. In this case you as fruitless as the tomato seeds you spit about. Anything can happen in here.
B (singing) I just called to say I love you….what is the point in that? If you love me, then you love me. And I know that you love me. Why call to reassure it? To validate it? Just incase I forgot? Just incase you forget?!
Anon What’s wrong with you? You never apologize for forgetting. You’ve never done and you never should. It’s not your fault that you can’t remember.
B You love me! Then you leave me!
S Who wants attention the child that is silent or the child that yells at the others?
Amne It would only make sense that you would forget my name. I am sorry that I cannot remember yours. Maybe if we touch it will bring back the memory. Here come closer. Don’t be afraid.
B I want to forget. I want to twist my body inside out and become a completely new being who has no connections, no attachments, to anything, anyplace or anyone.
S Why do you want to forget? Have you done things that you regret? Regret is a gift, don’t give it away. As we grow old memory fades. Why is that?
B I see endless pools of colour in darkness. I love darkness. It covers up the whole face of the world and shuts you in, hold you , and lulls you to sleep.
Anon What’s wrong with you? You never apologize for forgetting. You’ve never done and you never should. It’s not your fault that you can’t remember.
B Whose fault is it then? It has to be somebody’s fault. No one just forgets for no reason. There has to be a reason. What’s the reason? Maybe you don’t want to remember. I remember.
START MONOLOGUE
I stood with my back against the wall. Their breath was choking me. Their eyes so familiar. Agape. Words secreted. Violent, controlling manipulating posture. No escape. Fuck off, I say. They move closer. I smell the sickly sweet stench of their sweat. I want to extinguish it. A single bead of their sweat falls on me and I start crying. I sob. Their laughter fills my ears. I say it again. Their proximity spirals into me. For a second I lose grasp on everything. I used to love their lovely look. But now, never again. I look back now and your lips breathe fire on my heart. Charred, burnt flesh smoldering in the heat of your lies. I can’t talk to you anymore. I say fuck it. The whispering. It’s like rain and gloom when my mood is already unsteady. Insult to injury. Leave me alone. Alone.
I remember kissing a boy in the schoolyard once. I didn’t know him, and he didn’t know me. We were playing tag together, and when he caught me, I kissed him. He ran away with his cheeks blushing and a big smile on his face. Why can’t it always be that easy? With him, I would see him when he came home from work, and I’d be afraid to give him a hug. Afraid that his arms would be limp in mine. Afraid that he wouldn’t want me to touch. That I repulsed him. When did it become like that? When I was young I used to wander through a place called Wychwood Park. It was a privately owned piece of land near my home with tons of beautiful houses on it, all lived in by families. There was a lagoon in the middle of the park, and two swans who lived in it every spring and summer. I hopped the fence once with a friend. We wanted to see the swans, and to touch one. They were so beautiful and elegant, but when I reached out my hand, the bird almost bit off all my fingers.
END MONOLOGUE
T Oooooh ooohh excellent – fight! Fight! Ha ha ha
S Stop it.
T Don’t tell me to stop. Who do you think you are? (to Buddy Gurl) weren’t you there? Did you look into their eyes? The sadness, the sorrow, the pain was all there. You knew what was going on so stop being so naïve.
S I guess I feel weighed down too. Not free. It’s funny to talk about freedom though. In the end everyone is free. As we get older we get uglier. Our memory, our vision, our senses fail so that we can’t see each other; can’t hear each other; can’t touch each other. The defense is in the failure. In our capacity. What’s left then? Strange to think of confinement. You can’t imagine. No once can. There is such repose in freedom, yet we’re all trapped. Darkness and silence bring the ability to hear time move. Only then. I just keep asking and you keep silent. I wish there was some way that I could make you speak. Did I somehow miss what you said? What have you been silenced? In silent protest you are? But what are you protesting? Speech. Are you protesting the ability and necessity to speak? To vocalize, to communicate? Speak now or forever hold your peace.
PO Who are you trying to impress, spouting off like that. Everyone is trying to ignore you, can’t you tell? Jesus, some people are so full of themselves. Do me a great big favour and….stop.
Anon Ignoring is bliss.
S Now that you speak all you have to say is “be silent”. At least you are saying something. Anything.
PO Look I gotta say, give it up. They say it’s gone. And the harder you look for it, the less likely you’ll find what you want. My teacher’s always telling me that. Now I think it’s actually true. What did you say about darkness making you hear time move or something? That’s kinda cool. Or not. Fuck man, ignore what I’m saying. This place is messing with my head.
T You fool. You should have noticed it long ago. Everyone’s just begging, like driveling dimwits, “Hear me, hear me, talk to me, I’m scared, I’m lonely, I want to talk to someone.” Everyone in here is so full of themselves that they can’t hear anything else. Shut up everyone!
B I am silent because I do not know what to say to you. You want me to answer you, but you keep on asking questions. Why do I regret? Because I am a failure. I want to forget, and I want to start again. You speak of confinement. Do you even know what that is? Do you know how it feels like to be tied down to somebody? To be locked to them heart, body and soul? I have done this. I know how it feels. And I have also been torn apart. Confinement is not an option, it is the only way of life for me now. I am not free. You are not free. He is not free. We are not free. Each and every one of us is attached, tied down and taken. It is only a matter of time. We’ll all be broken by the end.
Finish
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