This post is part of my daily writing ritual, where I write a short monologue / inner monologue in a 45-minute time block. No self-critique. I start writing and see where it takes me. This writing is initial thinking for a new script idea I’m tossing around. 

EXT. STREET – NIGHT
Following recent rain, a MAN and a WOMAN lean against a wall as a song plays from an open window, cutting through time straight into their souls.

WOMAN: Not many know this one—its essence is about how each of us is waking up from a dream. It’s said that life is but a dream. Do you believe that? All that we experience around us is just a dream, and the dreamer is who we’re all trying to find. I’ve been inhabiting this realm. Eyes sewn shut, gazing through the veil of sorrow. I’m the dreamer with all of my amusing and melancholy tales to tell. Then, when I tire of my daily life, I can wake from this dream and find you there. The two of us are making our way through this greasy ether. Could you imagine that? I’ve never considered that I might be living in your dream.

This life of ours, real or imagined, will continue to loop into itself until our last days. Which for me—seeing you one last time cuts me out of your neverending story and acknowledges the truth.

We’ve both been living in two different worlds. They’ve constantly been shifting and turning in on each other. Positive and negative. Day and night. Black and white. Rich and poor. Life and death.

I’ve come to an end. It’s time for me to go back to sleep. Those days so long ago, I’ve already lost them. I was fortunate to have met you when I did. But, sorrowfully, this life, this dream, is fading. I woke up too late. The one thing I feared above all else was regret. I was fooling myself to think I wouldn’t have any.

Imagine living a life without any?

If I’m honest, I cared deeply. About you. About what could have been. I had to tell you that. It’s not a sin to feel, to love, to dream. That’s all it will ever be. I’ve never confessed that to anyone until now. When I saw you, something possessed me to tell you. We need to clear it all away and let this dream dissolve. Good-bye.

MAN: In dreams, as in life. Things will always be a part of us. Forever there in our memory. So this isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning. I’ve never given up on this dream. One day, all of this will be made real again, and I will find you standing there among the beauty and the regrets.