Summary

The website content is a fragment of a play script named "Agitation," which explores themes of existentialism, memory, and the human condition through the interactions of three characters, B, A, and C, in a minimalist setting.

Abstract

"Agitation" presents a stark scene with a character named B, whose age and sex are indeterminate, contemplating existence in a dimly lit room with a single source of light. B is juxtaposed with A, an ambiguous entity inside a wooden crate, and C, another character who remains silent for much of the interaction. The dialogue and actions of B and C touch upon the struggle of life, the desire for relief, and the inevitability of a predetermined end. The characters reflect on survival, the nature of existence, and the paradox of wanting to move forward despite the absurdity of their situation. The text is interspersed with philosophical musings, hinting at the characters' acceptance of their fate and the beauty of forgetfulness as a reprieve from the pain of remembrance. The play concludes with an acknowledgment of the characters' impending end, yet there is a sense of peace and even positivity in their outlook.

Opinions

B expresses a sense of resignation and contemplation about the nature of survival and the human condition, suggesting that life's struggles are both burdensome and absurd.
The character C, while initially silent, offers a sympathetic and nostalgic perspective, acknowledging the shared fate of the characters and the sweetness of their lives that are "already over."
The text conveys

Fiction

Agitation

Is it not marvelous to be forgetful?

Where I am, I don’t know, I’ll never know, in the silence you don’t know, you must go on, I can’t go on, I’ll go on. — Samuel Beckett.

A poorly lit room, the only source of light, is a small dull lamp. A dusty square table stage right, with a single chair, upon the chair, sits B, age, and sex unimportant. Slightly stage left of center is a large wooden crate with the words ‘This way up’ stamped on the side in large red lettering. Inside the crate is A, ambiguity surrounds A, it is merely ‘something’ inside a box. Stage left of the box sitting on the floor, head low, side on to the audience is C, age, and sex unimportant.

B. Sits, stares at the floor…contemplates. Massages head…stares at floor…………shakes head with resignation. Lets out a long sigh…closes their eyes…stands very slowly.

B. I wonder, I contemplate,

(Thoughtfully, slowly)

Survival is the final offer that arrives at the eleventh hour… just when the pain to the tenth power would kill you with another ninth degree… By then, relief strikes you brief as an eighth note… you wear doom proudly… it’s your seventh seal. But life whispers through your sixth sense of what might await you in some fifth dimension… where the miracle is saved for the fourth quarter….. Tricked… you sigh and rise on the third day…

You know better, but with no second thought, the risk that first step…..absurd as first love at first sight (ironic laugh)…..as if you were back at ground zero…..as if it cost nothing….. as if this were not the last laugh……

B. Walks towards the crate, stops…strains to see A…looks at C…Looks back to crate…lets out a long sigh and sits on the floor.

C. Raises head…shrugs shoulders as if to relieve tension…stares…Contemplates

B. I wonder, I contemplate.

C. I’m glad you’re positive. (Sympathetically)

B. I’m glad you’re positive too, though, of course, I wish you weren’t……. (No response from C) I wish you weren’t either is the response I expect, and you say nothing…… And who can blame you? Not me.

C. I’m not the one who’ll call you after dinner and a movie. You’re not the one who’ll call me.

B. We both know we have that – what? – (trying to recall to memory) that ultimate date one night to come…..one bright morning.

C. Who can blame us? Not the forks and not the knives that carry on and do the heavy lifting now.

B. I wonder, I consider,

C. I’m glad you’re positive….

C. Stands…walks around the back of the crate…strains to see A…Smiles nostalgically…walks to chair and sits… shrugs shoulders as if to relieve tension…stares…smiles…sighs.

C. (Nostalgically, slowly)

We are tender and our lives are sweet…..and they are already over…..and we are visiting them in some kind of endless reprieve from oblivion…..we are walking around in them and after….. we shatter with love for everything we settle in….. Let us live as if we were still among the living, let our days be patterned after theirs. Is it not marvelous to be forgetful?

B. Time’s emptied me…peace, peace…I’ve had enough.

C. I’m glad you’re positive!

Story was written by Drama Llama | Educator | Writer | Academic | Consultant