Little Voices in My Head

This monologue was written and performed by yours truly in my senior year of High School. Yes, you read that correctly. Hence the title. Everyone squeeze in the “Way-Back” machine, and no pinching your sister, or so help me god, I’ll turn this bus RIGHT back around!

The assignment was to write an updated take on one of Chaucer’s tales. I chose the viewpoint of a heroin addict, as it was something I had a…unique perspective on at the time. (Breathe, Mom. BREATHE!) I dressed in some ratty jeans, combat boots, an old jacket of my dad’s that I rolled in the mud, rubbed lard in my shoulder-length hair, and applied some really nasty track marks to my arms with some very improvised make-up. I went all out on the make-up on my face too. Sunken cheeks and eyes, pale skin, the WORKS. I scared the bejesus out of my first three teachers. (Did I mention I wore this costume all day, and that this class wasn’t until my last period of the day? *evil evil grin*)

My friends from that class have since asked what happened to that piece of work, and I was rummaging in my theatre trunk the other day, and whaddya know, I kept it. Thank god one of my little voices is a tad bit obsessive compulsive. 

Addiction 

I’m not the kind of person you’d expect
to have arms filled with tracks.
My hair, once full and envied
now flat and dirty
My body aches, my head pounds
I see the pretty, pretty sounds!

My parents? Gone when I was 10.
Me a baby chickie, no mother hen.
Pain in my heart, pain in my head,
I’d do anything to keep the pain dead.

DON’T MESS WITH MY STASH!
Man…I need some cash…
Sell you a shiny trinket for some cash!
I just need enough cash, make my flow last.

Cuz you gotta keep that high going
keep it going strong.
That high always fades before too long.
Gotta get more gotta get more gotta get more
Don’t touch me! I ain’t your whore!

So what man, if my eyes are dull?
So what if they’ve sunken into my skull?
Who cares that I’m pale?

Maybe, maybe I’ll find an apple core in that garbage over there.
Yeah, the sugar keeps the Dragon in longer.
And the Dragon, he keeps away the hunger.

See, kids like me, we were “custody of the state”
Ya ask me, they were too little, too late.
See, the Dragon Keeper had done seen my Momma, and me.
He said, “I’ll ease your pain, for a fee. Give me your locket. That shiny bobble.
And I’ll show you love only my Dragon can give you.”
After that, using was nothing but that same old thing.

I started buying. Then mixing. Then selling on my own.
I sell to everyone. Don’t know who I’ll sell to next.
Pimps, whores, teachers, cabbies, preachers, doctors.
Hell, one day, a man who works for the MAYOR of our town,
says the Mayor have a great big frown.
So I sold him a big fat Dragon,
Keep him company.

Look at me, got the Mayor’s money.
Where will I go next?
Shit, who knows?
But for sure, you can find me and my Dragon,

Ridin’ the flow.