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Overdose

Hey everyone !


I started theater when I was really young, to help with some troubles, and writing for the fun of creating stories and characters. But then it all exploded and became the most important things in my life, a reason to live and keep going, it makes me vibrate so much.


Theater is a wonderful way to connect with other people, either the other actors or the public, without any judgement, a way to express ourselves and to let all the repressed feelings go away by embodying a character. It allow us to give everything we have in our inner self to the public, make them live a story by the performance of the actors, the appearance of the stage and the sceneries on it, the lighting and the sound effects...

Here an excerpt of a play i'm writing, called Overdose. It's an observation of people that surrounded me at that time, and my own experience of the scholar bullying, the social anxiety and the depression. I named that play Overdose specifically because it's an "overdose" of feelings that a teenager can feel (not only teenager of course but here the main character is 17, the watcher is ageless). The emotions are physically represented with colours, a mask, medications...


It's also the relation between the character and their author. “The clock of my heart” is basically the amount of time he has left to live, the limited number of beats his vital organ produces. But in this scene, this expression has no connection with death, it’s just the number of words it goes - can - say, the number of pages in which it can appear as a character before the book closes and the story stops sharp.


A table at the right-side with a white mask painted like a face stained with tears, leaves, paint and maybe a book and medicines. Sober decors, just the table, the rest would be useless.


Black out, off-stage :


The Watcher : That boy was wandering the streets. He didn’t know where to go. Nobody wanted him. He was like… invisible ? It looks like yes, you’ve probably seen him, take a quick look as quietly as possible. You didn’t want to go to him either because of your excessive shyness or because of a lack of time, you were in a hurry. Maybe you were too anxious to socialize or you didn’t care at all. He was just a teenager among many others, there are millions like him. He is not original, not the most unhappy or even the happiest. He has two arms, two legs, a size his country says is average. He’s doing well in school, everything seems fine. So... Why does the world give him so much hate ? What did he do to you ? Oh yes it’s true, his hair is grey, it’s « weird ». And his left eye, he’s the only one healthy, the other doesn’t exist anymore and is covered with a scar. It’s « strange ». Yet this boy is like you and me, right ? His heart is beating, his lungs are rotten only by pollution like you and me, he doesn’t smoke, he doesn’t drink, he doesn’t do drugs, so why ? And all those comments we made to him at school :


Registered voice : Are you sure you’re a guy ? You’re weird, get out, die, disappear, you’re useless, why do you exist ? When do you decide to die ? But go on, you repulse us ! You dress like a piece of shit, why don’t you do your hair ? Do like us ! You freak ! You’re totally crazy, a mad man, you sound like a psychopath, you’re paranoid, man, schizophrenic ! I bet you put whiskey in your cereal, you junkie !


The Watcher : And him in his inner self, were shouting.


Silver :sit cross-legged, paint stains all over his body. Stop! Stop ! I can’t take it anymore stop all i’m begging you ! I’m afraid! I’m in pain! I… light, Silver calms down instantly and speaks with anxiety in the voice. I don’t really know what to tell you i have a lot of trouble to talk, especially strangers… Who the are you? Yeah nah it doesn’t really matter after all you don’t care about my identity in return, but since i have to, i introduce myself, more or less, in one way or another since i don’t have a fixed identity, i-it changes constantly ! One time i can be a boy and call myself Wofiirira, another time a girl named Lane, or even an intersex called Joshua or Alice ! But today i am a boy, i think, and my name is Silver. It’s the magic of the imagination you’ll say, in my head i am big and strong! In reality i am alone and as fragile as a porcelain doll. See all these pretty colors? I have a lot of them all over my body if you want… I can show them to you and- No stop ! takes his head in his hands, suffering I wanted to talk to you about my hearts but you don’t care, i wanted to talk to you in detail about my large family, but i don’t have time, my heart clock will stop soon and nobody will care ! I am not important, i only exist for a few broken words, only for a few torn pages. But listen to me… just a few moments…


(silence)


goes by the table I remember when i was younger i was told that i was very mature for my age, that i didn’t talk much except to defend my siblings and that was a good thing. But oddly enough, since my tongue loosened to say i had problems, they all moved away. You know, i’m tired… bored… depressed… want to cry? Yeah no too lazy… my head is spinning and my belly is fucking burning. And i’m sure you’re thinking about some weird stuff, but no that’s not it, i took this medicine there you know the "zopiclone" maybe it’s its fault if all of a sudden i have blotch coming on my body. She told me it was stress, my mother. But i’m not sure if i should believe her, i’m getting worse. It’s disgusting, don’t you think? laugh weakly then realizes What? You say that i seem different from before ? rises in tension How can i be more open ? But shut up, these are just lies i know i’m an associable shit i can’t go to people and talk to them! I’m scared damn i’m scared! I am obliged to prepare myself psychologically for weeks and weeks before i can face the trials of life ! I’m never gonna make it later, my life is gonna end because i didn’t have the courage to pursue my dreams and i wasn’t gonna be able to take care of myself. And you see those moments you spend with your friends, where you cry with laughter? Afterwards, we feel bad, we want to disappear we feel ridiculous ! As if everything had been a shame, a simple reversal of the situation where joy turned against you who are instantly taken for a despicable madman. It hurts. I’m ashamed of myself. break the mask What don’t you understand in there? I want to disappear! I chain countless bullshit, i’m scared, i’m in pain! I can’t get better! I take these fucking meds that shoot me, but nothing makes me fall into them all the time and people think i’m weird and i am ! I don’t know how tp talk, i don’t know how to express myself, i just yelled and acted like a kid. Hell, I’m seventeen years old and i have to act like an adult, but i can’t do it, i keep on with my messed up voice without even wanting to, with my stupid facial expressions and my childish attitude. calms down You’re not tired of it? I often want to slit my wrists, i’ve already done it ! No matter what, it’s all stupid thingsi throw back and forth since i just scratched my arms in blood and nothing more! I already wanted to die of an overdose, but it didn’t work unfortunately. I didn’t have to have enough willpower! Anyway anti-depressants i have at will as i am part of the country with the most consumers! I’d like to understand why i feel all this and also... why psychiatrists are so useless? They’re just here to give us meds that detract us even more! Should i have been sent to see a psychologist ? No matter how much it costs, unlike the reapers, i forgot. Besides, i forget a lot, it’s one of the symptoms of depression, you know? Go to the Hamilton ladder if you don’t believe me, it was posted on my shrink’s desk. Excuse me, i shouldn’t have gotten so carried away, rah control yourself, stop talking like a child. Enough with the y’s and z’s in your sentences, learn to talk, you’re not credible the Silver ! You look like a 14-year-old kid. I’ve had enough of it, i can’t take it anymore. The mask is broken in half, it’s so beautiful to accomplish. I have to continue it still exists it is not over! Try to calm himself and search for air It’s just the words of a soul that you’ve made insane and that will eventually explode. The mask must be destroyed, go on help me to destroy everything. It was beautiful, wasn’t it? Tic. Tac. Tic. Tac makes the heart clock. Let’s hurry before our last hour. (…)


Hope you liked it and that you are all ok!


Eléonore (Max)

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