A monologue about who you are, who you might be, and who you're not
|This isn’t working out, man. It’s not me.
You got this great thing goin’, really. But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t kill anymore. I thought I could do it. I thought it’d be easy, you know, just makin’ things right, doin’ the world justice. I still think its kinda right. Maybe. I don’t know.
You make it look easy, man. You look like a savior. Hell, all the guys love you. But me, man; they don’t like me. They think I'm a coward. And they’re right. I am a coward. I hate it, man. I wish I wasn’t. I tried not to be. I tried to do what you said, you know. I… I killed. I killed them thinkin’ I’d then be all right. I thought maybe if I could kill a guy, I’d somehow not feel so afraid. But I’m still afraid, man. I’m scared shitless, even more now.
I realized something. Sometimes people just are what they are, you know? You're a hero, man. You know how to be. I’m not. Man, I’m not at all. I tried it. I tried hard to be a hero, but every time I have to look in their eyes before I kill ‘em, I freeze. I feel like a little boy, holdin’ something that doesn’t belong to me. I kill ‘em, sure, but it isn’t me. Only reason I kill ‘em’s ‘cause I can’t stand to look at ‘em. Not ‘cause of our fight. Not ‘cause that’s what we’re meant to do. I kill ‘em ‘cause they see who I am inside, and it scares the shit out of me, man. I can’t bear the idea that someone knows what I’m thinking inside; knowin’ that I’m only wearing the costume of a hero.
I have nightmares -- terrible dreams. People I love come after me; they kill me. I wake up crying, man. I wake up sweating and crying and not knowing where I am. It’s killing me. I have to leave. I have to get out of here. But the worst part is; I don’t know if that’ll help. I’ll still be me. I’ll still be a coward, a shitless little kid.
I thought maybe you could’ve helped me out. I thought maybe the hero, you know, the bravest guy of all could maybe give me some hope. But you didn’t help man. You didn’t do nothin’. And it ain’t your fault; this life just ain’t working for me. People hate me, man. They say I should kill myself, but that I'm too shitless to even do that. But I could. I could shoot myself right now, but that’s ‘cause I am a coward. ‘Cause it’d make it all go away. Only reason I haven’t yet done it, is cause I’ve got one last strand of hope.
I got a call yesterday. My parents called. They told me that my grandma was sick and might die.
You know what I felt? Joy, man. I felt happy. It’s sick, right? I thought, now I could finally be there for someone. I thought, I just have to be there. I just have to be there and I’ll be a hero to someone.
Ain’t that despicable? You must know I’m a coward now. But it still gives me hope, man. If maybe I could be there and do somethin’, maybe I could be whole again, maybe this empty feeling in my stomach would go away and the nightmares would stop. Maybe if I take care of her till she dies and help her die peacefully, then all this other shit won’t matter, you know. I won’t have to look into any more eyes of fear and hate and knowing. They’ll be the eyes of love, man. They’ll be saying I’m okay. They’ll be happy to see me before they go away forever. That’s what I want.
So, I just wanted to say goodbye to you. I wanted to say sorry. I'm sorry I couldn’t help you out, man. Maybe we just are who we are, you know? I… I’m gonna miss you. Don’t feel like you failed me or nothin’. You didn’t fail me. If anything, you succeeded in makin’ me see what I ain’t. I ain’t no killer, and I ain’t no hero. But I got something good in me somewhere; maybe. Maybe it’s somewhere deep. Maybe my grandma’s eyes will bring it out, who knows. So, this is it. Goodbye, man. I hope you win, you know. Hope it works out for you. Don’t worry about me. I’m just gone.