Soliloquies for an internet age.

Enter right. What are you putting up that stage for? My ego is at the door telling me I’m as flawed and brilliant as I want it to, just enough and not too much. Ladies, that’s enough for tonight. I’m not as energetic as I used to be, and it’s twice as much when you’re selling it too. Why do you think I’m putting it up? I’ll stage a fight with my shadow, lie for appearances, call my shameless borrowing originality. It’s the business nowadays, everybody’s selling something. Everybody makes of themselves a stage, a theatre.

(This soliloquy is sponsored by the way reflections curve on my windscreen in the rain, late at night when I’m driving home in a waterfall of streetlights) Skip in 5.

Someone somewhere works all their time for the minimum it takes to live, someone somewhere makes a video called “tour of my new apartment” and pays for it with the ad revenue. We made this world. We live in it. I heard Zimbabwe has a 90% unemployment rate. The only people who talk about inequality are the people who have a voice, and the people who have a voice are holding onto it. Aren’t you sometimes tempted to think our morality is the lie that lets things stay the way we are?

(This soliloquy is sponsored by some desert moment, when out of nothing I heard sea waves and night air like children singing hymns so sweetly I almost faded away into the…