Human Traffic
written by Justin Kerrigan
Jip: The present has gone. Fantasy is a part of reality, but we take the breaks off. We're thinking clearly, yet not thinking at all. This feels right. We stop trying to control things; a warm rush of chemicals through us. Is this brain damage? We forget all the hurt and pain in life. We wanna go somewhere else. We're not threatened by people anymore. All our insecurities have evaporated. We're in the clouds now. Wide open, we're spacemen, orbiting the earth. Yea, the world looks beautiful from here. We're nympholeptics, desiring for the unattainable. We risk sanity for moments of temporary enlightenment. So many ideas, so little memory. The last thought killed by anticipation of the next. We embrace an overwhelming feeling of love. We flow in unison. We're together. I wish this was real. We want a universal level of togetherness, where we're comfortable with everyone. We're in rhythym, part of the movement. We wave goodbye,. Ultimately, we just want to be happy. Yeah, yeah (laughs) What the fuck was I just talking about?
Jip: Well, what goes up, must come down, and down, and down. Everyone looks ill at the end of the night. All lost the power of speech, desperately avoiding eye contact. Your new soulmate that you've been talking codshit to for the past five hours about the story of creation, or the fourth "Star Wars" film, is now a complete stranger. You can't even look him in the eye. All you've got in common now is paranoia. It's coming through the walls, man. The children of ecstasy aren't safe anymore. We're no longer together as one, but seperate mental patients that yearn to be ejected out of this poisoned atmosphere to a warm bed and a friendly therapist. Reality's on her way. Where am I? What have I do? Was it worth it? And by the way, what happened again? All we have to look forward to is unconsciousness, but you can never sleep.
Kudos and much thanks go to Kristina for this monologue, it is very much appreciated.