Be More Specific

Cast of Characters :

Fatou ………………… (College student currently enrolled in cyber school)

Uotaf ………………… (Fatou’s reflection on the screen of her sleeping cell phone)

Plant ………………… (Bamboo Plant on the right side of Fatou’s Desk )

ACT I — SCENE I

We see a modest white-walled office room and Fatou is sitting at a table involved in her Laptop attending an online class. A shelf busy with books and art supplies to Fatou’s left, a bamboo plant sits at the right of her working table, a traditional wall clock hangs directly in front of Fatou, and to her left sits her phone. Desk is accompanied by water bottles and notebooks, the walls of the room are lined with canvases, paintings and sketchbook pads.

….Suddenly FATOU yells out,

FATOU: I was born to figure it out! (Slaps laptop screen closed)

UOTAF : Hey Fatou, let’s not get off task here.

FATOU : (Gleeful) I was born to figure it out!!! 

PLANT : What’s going on?

UOTAF : My guess is she’s having her fifth epiphany this week.

PLANT : (Understanding) I see, it was a long Monday.

FATOU : You guys, I’ve been ….. thinking … 

UOTAF: (Amused) You’ve been thinking? You just dozed off eight times during your first class and woke up before your second one ended!

FATOU: Okay, you're exaggerating — but wait, did I remember to write down the homework?

PLANT: (Quietly) even if you did there are syllabuses for that.

UOTAF: Even email.

FATOU: (Rummaging through the many notebooks on her desk) I could’ve sworn I did. I was using that blue pen that never dries on time so it ends up on your sleeve or hand if you’re not wearing any long sleeves—

PLANT: You actually dreamed you wrote it down. You were even moving your writing hand, I saw it. Twitching for a blue pen that thing.

FATOU: That explains it. (Opens up a random notebook on her desk and gets ready to read the pages) : Oooh! Check out this poem I wrote 6 months ago. It needs some more work—

UOTAF: (Interjects) Or, we can get started on some work, maybe pass a few classes—

FATOU: (Clears her throat and begins to read) 

Ahem! After this… *Ahem*

(Pats chest) 

Let's get to the bottom of it

You cough up a shovel 

You cough up the rust from the shovel,

I watch you.

The cough drop factory across the street watches you.

You cough so hard your eyes from your face pop out,

To watch you

So loud, the sediment on the floors featuring your roaming eyes — jump, 

As in a rejoice of an unison

Let's get to the bottom of it—

So your knees kiss the pavement and you bend and fold

You search for this stomach residing shovel, 

Or for your eyes — what you tend to treasure more is unclear

So I watch you-

UOTAF:(Cuts Fatou off) You have an assignment due in six minutes, please go watch that.

PLANT:(Warmingly) Fatou,  have you ever heard of the word “discipline”?

FATOU: (A face of disgust, revolted) Discipline. Oh, I have a mouth full for that dusty word discipline.

UOTAF: Okay, here we go….

FATOU: (In a hurry, rant fit) Discipline. Discipline. So recently I've been relearning the power of words. Picture the setting of an elementary school classroom (Points at the corners of the room’s ceiling) The number line follows you everywhere, almost to remind you how everything in this world is made up of numbers—

PLANT: (Cuts off) -numbers?

FATOU: Yes! Those colorful alphabet posters are plastered neatly everywhere with the little illustrative pictures next to them, offering more dots to be connected. That's the kindergarten classroom—that's where we are, looking up at this large wall with letters to words… basically this shrine for capital letters.

(Stands up in devotion and paces around the room)  I’m giving words highlighters, like the best ones you can buy at Best Buy, y’know. I’m telling the words “Exploit this gift I give. Exploit the use of this highlighter— use it as a moisturizer, drown in it. Become more prominent, become more emphasized. Exist loudly with this bright vibrant of a color!” I tell this all to the word ‘Discipline’, I repeat it and repeat it slow. But discipline stares back and doesn’t listen. (defeated) Nods their head but doesn’t act on any nods.

PLANT: Did you ask politely? This “discipline”?

FATOU: Yes desk plant. On my worst days, I beg. But Discipline refuses to be a shining bright reminder in my life, it chooses to stay small and forgotten, the same. It rebukes any ounce of change.

UOTAF: Maybe it’s allergic to rubbing marker all over its body—

FATOU: If anything, this word “discipline” is allergic to change (Spins around in desk chair). This constant in every direction I seem to turn. Except for when I’m in this room, in this box. (Stops spinning) I think staying in something so still is breaking me.

PLANT: Tell me about it.

FATOU: I will repot you tomorrow, but please listen.  There's always something moving always and I don't know, I just really wanna join. Lately I’ve been feeling like I’m going insane with these concrete routines. I feel so out of it.

UOTAF: Tell me about it. I need about three different iOS updates.

FATOU: Oh yeah, remind me again tomorrow. So recently, I’ve been looking out of windows to remember all the other stories out there. I face the street to watch all the changing cars and the changes in directions and the change of the seasons to at least move with them for a millisecond. Even if it's just a change in thought. I guess I’m craving a change I can predict.

PLANT: (Interested) That sounds like fun.

UOTAF: (Disinterested) That sounds off task.  

FATOU: Ugh, I wish me and change can have a talk honestly.

PLANT: Really? What would you say to change? 

FATOU: Hmmm. I’d be all operatic (Spotlight falls onto Fatou and the lights in the room dim)

Y’know….

(Uotaf is visibly annoyed)

FATOU: (Clears throat)

To all the change happening outside of me,

does it sting?

does it pinch?

does the sun kiss your skin, change?

does it feel good to dissolve and take shape and be born again,

does it feel great to be unrecognizable, change?

is the distance between your past cold or warm, change?

near or far, change?

do you fear it?

 do u fear it, change?

is it all you, or is it a collection of feasts, 

episodes of devourment

dinners with all the selves of your past

Getting full off of the distance that once lied between one another

Munching on past separations

Enjoying this    change?

UOTAF: That's nice but change the subject, you have work to do. (Lights come back on)

FATOU: Okay, wait. After this. I’ve also been noticing I thrive on feelings, on answers, on anything that can bring clarity, which I believe is why I’m getting into tarot, for more answers to more questions I swear are rhetorical but really I'm just insecure about how little I know about my own life.

PLANT: It’s okay to not know stuff. I don’t know how we’re even communicating right now.

FATOU: Exactly. I thought with time as I grew older I would be less concerned about the many things I do not know, my need for answers about things would lessen. I would just live life as it comes, and as it flows... as it over-flows.

UOTAF: I hope you don’t consider your life to be overflowing right now. All you do is wake up and lie. Literally lie around and fib, both of those definitions.

FATOU: (Sigh) I even try to argue with my reflection on my phone screen to feel something. Maybe some twisted rapport. 

UOTAF: The most sense you made all day.

Fatou: I’m not sure if it’s because of the current way everything is set up but the days linger with loneliness. But is this loneliness real or is it worry? Am I worrying about the many lacks in my life, which leaves more space for this loneliness to thrive?

(Goes on a tangent of passion) Does it stand up on its own if I no longer acknowledge it, this loneliness? I feel like my attention keeps it stable. I try to not look at all I'm missing to lessen the feeling, I try to distract myself so it can fall—

UOTAF: Distract yourself with some work.

FATOU: (Continues) Is “loneliness” inherently nosy? Looking too much of where nothing seems to be. So much so it becomes boring, this multiplied yawn —that bounces off the walls that houses all this space left to be taken up. The echos tend to echo and echo and echo- (To Plant) You think echos ever get lonely? 

PLANT: If I had ears, maybe I'd have some leverage on that answer.

FATOU: (Begins again)  Is loneliness talking to a plant and hearing it respond? Hearing it make sense? 

Is it looking too far forward, feeling too far for a forward, using only your eyes to get a taste of what should settle, of what has yet to, because soon, — people will take up all this empty space soon. We’d meet again soon, make sense soon, plans soon, concrete dents known as memories soon- 

Loneliness— this vast billowing of air, (Arms up in a  stretch) This expanse, as you look out into the ocean, as you look out into a field, as you look up into the sky, and as a million skies look back at you… is it still loneliness? It's comedy really, being lonely outside, in the biggest room. 

PLANT: (Understanding)  When I was a little sprout, I would feel lonely among my siblings and peers, and even though there were a million loud insects surrounding me, it never made that feeling any better, so I understand. But the isolation I felt—I would say, it helped me grow. 

UOTAF: I’m just gonna interject that this is still off task-

PLANT : (Continues) I was able to learn about myself, what I liked, what I disliked, what I was drawn to, what gave rise to me. I had to learn to trust this unknown...the feeling of not being understood or completely seen I guess. It helps to get to know yourself because you grow and you grow some more and sometimes it all becomes unfamiliar and it's an uneasy feeling that you may never find comfort in but you should appreciate— because it's better than being stagnant and the same. Like that pesky word ‘discipline.’ Find comfort in the growing process, at least over there you have progress.

UOTAF: Or, also known as “focus on yourself.” 

FATOU: I’ve been focused on myself for years. I’ve actually found myself eighty-six times this month alone. (Beat) It’s fine though, I think of it as a game now. These reruns of hide and seek and I never get tired.

PLANT: Sounds like you should pick up a hobby. One that requires less running around. Maybe start meditating, I do it often.

FATOU:  Ah, meditation. Being so still, making sure to do little to nothing. The practice alone cues a reminder of being this planted living thing. My heart beat sounds off like a hammer making contact with a nail. The constant banging as in alarm to not ever be forgotten; “Remember me, remember me, remember me-”  Does this ongoing turning of an ignition require discipline?

UOTAF:  What are you talking about?

PLANT: (To Uotaf) She talks about a lot of things, you’re gonna have to be more specific.

FATOU: (Takes a breath) Does the ongoing turning of an ignition require discipline? Does my beating heart beat due to some understanding of the word discipline? Will I pay more attention to my work if what resided within them all were this pulpy mess of a beating heart —practicing discipline, reminding me of the benefits? Loudly showcasing the strength of allowing...you know, vroom vroom (Motions the twisting of an ignition near chest)

(Silence from the room)

UOTAF: (Towards Fatou) Since you tend to only speak in poetics, listen up: I think you need to get a hold on all of your hypotheticals. You really fancy throwing unknowns out into the open so you can latch on to one that seems to float around like some estranged indestructible bubble, once caught, you choose to obsess over it-

FATOU: You can stop now, I can already tell this is going to be my least favorite monologue of the day.

UOTAF: Wait, lemme get this metaphor out. You seem to exaggerate a ‘mundane’. As to not make it mundane. You are playing  Operation™ on the word mundane. Wait, that was too many mundanes, let's try this one out: You exaggerate a burning candle as a house fire, then choose to sit next to it, to keep it warm. 

FATOU: I think I liked the first one better.

PLANT: (To Fatou) Regardless, I kinda agree. You make something out of nothing quite often. 

UOTAF: You have to say it all poetry-like or otherwise she will not understand.

FATOU: No, I got it. I think what you're both getting at is, I crave a mutual obsession with everything that I face. In which case, you would be correct. When I face this work (Fatou picks up a pile of notebooks) I do not see me in it. (She lets go of them, they fall) I am not interested in what is not interested in me.

PLANT: (In exaggerated poetics) How so, hypothetically, would something without innate interests show overt interest towards you? Hypothetically, of course.

FATOU: (Thinking) I’d face it without betrayal. It will have my undivided attention. It, a mirror, me, a narcissist with no eyelids to blink.

PLANT: Might I suggest something?

FATOU: Of course.

PLANT: Maybe you should try to see yourself within your work. Learn from it. Understand that it stands on its own, but it has a greater purpose for you. Y’know, tackling it will encourage you to learn more about yourself. Which will help you grow and tackle more likewise quests in the future. Everything remains interesting. 

FATOU: (Deep in thought) Geez, I see what you’re saying and I actually think your words might stick around. (Squeezes her head) Yeah, it’s definitely being ingrained somewhere. (Grabs and opens up a nearby water bottle) Cheers to figuring it out through poetics I guess (Pours water into the plant’s pot then drinks some herself.) 

PLANT: Cheers!

UOTAF: Do not pour water on me.

(Lights off) Play ends.