Bier de Stone ( wrote,
Bier de Stone

Soliloquy to a GASP

It’s 2:30 in the afternoon. Bier’s stomach begins to growl. He jumps into the shower, puts on some clean jeans and grabs his keys. He locks the door, hops into the car, pulls out of the driveway and onto the road. As he drives on the freeway, he listens to morrissey.

He starts to concentrate on the lyrics and becomes very melancholy. He is thinking of her. He is driving in the same direction where she lives. This thought disturbs him. if he were a different man, he could stop by her place on a weekend like this and say hello, in person. This might clear his mind.

He can’t stop thinking of the word reunion. People talk about reunions and he sees the good points of having dropped out of school. Why should he be so dead set against reunions when he longs to see her again?

His thoughts begin to fade from the lyrics and take their own course. he recalls what having friends use to be like and what a casual conversation with one would sound like. It’s almost too real. If he were in a movie, the scene would throw off everybody. One moment he's in a car driving down the road, the next moment somebody is with him in the car idly chatting.

I don’t want to go there.

You need to, man. You have to get her out of your system because you know there’s no future in this.

I never said there would be a future.


No, no. You say, if she happens to split, you’ll be there. That’s! not healthy. What if you’re seeing someone when she’s available.


I can live just fine without anybody then.


Fuck dude. You’re insane. You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re acting like a little smack coping with his puberty. You’re not thinking ahead, just like the millions of punks who think everything is going to be okay, then their parents kick them out of the house.

Look man. I’m not like you. I can’t settle. Oh, I can fuck a woman now and again because god knows I can’t pass up an opportunity, but even somebody I think might be the one, if she reacts positively to my advances, that is, I feel is settling. Oh, you have your flings with your multitude of women and, while you’re together, you make every minute count. You’ll overlook the irritating habits because you’ll weigh the pros and cons. "Is giving up this pussy worth washing the dishes?", "is giving up my solitude worth the affection?"


Get off the roof, man. You think that’s going to be different with her? You’re mixed up. It’s all that loneliness that’s messing with your head. Even astronauts have privileges up in space. They take the sexiest scientists there—how romantic is that, I might add—they aren't gonna tell their wives a thing that goes on up there. That shit vow they took in church is meaningless in space, or do you hear shit like 'for better or for worse. In heaven or in hell'?
Tags: dialog

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