Open Mic Night at your Local Coffee House
This morning I tried to record another "Dining Room Reading" clip. It was for a piece lovingly referred to as 'Goofball.' I wrote the piece in 2018 as part of a play that did not fully develop. Pieces of that 'play' are in my documents, and a couple of them were even performed by others last year. I recorded this piece, and it was not a good recording. It was so bad that I just made it private and shared it with a group. After seeing that four people had "seen" it but no one had viewed it, I deleted it from the group and my profile. It's similar to how other posts have been "seen" but not read. I presented 'Goofball' last year to a group I belong to made of other writers in various genres. Maybe that's the extent of where it belonged. As I read it, I realized/admitted it wasn't very good writing. It also hit too close to home, and today my brain told me to stop sharing that story with the world. On the list for the DRR 'series' was "Practically Functioning Adults." This piece was brilliantly performed here (at 21:37):
'Musical If' is available on my YouTube, but no one has viewed that since my reshare two days ago.
'Your Beauty in Another's Face' was presented here: Pride Pieces - The Forge Theater Lab.
There are a few newer pieces that I presented in the artists' group. My favorite was "Open Mic Night at Your Local Coffee House."
Hi there. Thank you for gathering. Today I present unto you three pieces that reflect the art we find in our lives. Yes. This first piece is called “Ode to a Bath Bomb.” Oh, bath bomb, shrouded in PLASTIC. I reveal you, and you kiss the water, and your essence dissolves into the wet. You break down, and spread joy, and you’re safe for my pet. YOUR COLORS, so bright. Your aroma lingers in the air. It takes away all my care.
This next piece is very dear to me. It has an important message we all need to hear. In this very divisive world we inhabit, I offer this reflection. It is titled, “You’re 32. Stop posting selfies.” Ohhh, please. Just stop. We know what you look like.
This final piece is called “Silence.”
Can you not handle the silence? Can you not live within this moment? Can you not put down your phone and engage? Can you not join the world for once?
No one cares about your latest casserole. No one cares about your fucking pet. No one cares what horror movie killer you are. No one cares if you’ve been published by a friend’s publishing company. No one cares.
Why are you afraid of silence? Does it make you ponder what you desire? Does it make you ponder how you fill your days with nothing, with noise? What do you really want to say, anyway? There are bigger issues in the world, and as a white male, I have the answers.
If you would like to support this artist, please refer to the recyclable tablecloth whereon I list my Venmo, PayPal, CashApp, Zelle, MoneyGram, Western Union, OnlyFans, and GoFundMe.
I will be over shorty to take your drink order.
This was a fun piece to perform. The small audience there that day for the reading was appreciative, as they were for the more experimental "Fritzy" and "A Gym Story." The more I move away from telling personal stories in the facade of a monologue or play, the better my writing becomes. Too many works have hit too close to home, and I'm tired of telling those stories. The other night, in a different writing group, I wound up writing a non-fiction piece about a story I've lived in for too long. I need new material. I need new content. I need new life experiences. What I've written served its purpose, but it's time to move on... from many things.