Subway Chronicles, Vol. III

Lost in the Subway: Monologue

The lights dim, leaving a single spotlight on the speaker, who stands center stage, looking around as if searching for something.

I thought I knew where I was going. How hard could it be? Shiiit. Just hop on the 2 train, transfer at Times Square, and be at my destination in no time. Then what am I doin’ here, in the middle of this friggin’ underground jungle, surrounded by strangers who wouldn’t even look me in the eye, gliding through the confusion like they were born here?!

Pauses, takes a deep breath, looks at the audience.

The signs are all a blur. Can’t tell I’m on the right platform or just missed my stop—again. Can hear the trains scratching in the distance, their echoes bouncing off the tiled walls, my sense of direction all amok and shit.

Gestures dramatically to the surroundings.

And the people! Oh, the people! A deer in headlights and they glide past me like they’re on a mission to save the world! The sea of humanity.

Voice softens, a hint of vulnerability emerges.

I thought I’d feel alive in this city… the city that never sleeps. King of the hill, top of the heap my ass! I’m an invisible man. Lost. Alone.

Looks down, then back up, a faint smile forming.

Back in Kentucky, it’s different. We don’t have subways. Rolling hills, bluegrass, and cows. Growing up, I’d spend hours in the fields, strumming my guitar as the cows grazed. There was this one cow, Bessie. She had these big, soulful eyes, like she understood every note I played. Sometimes, I think she did. I liked her more than my girlfriend.

The smile fades slightly as he looks around.

Here, it’s all concrete and steel. Fuckin’ razorblades! Noise and chaos. But maybe that’s the beauty of it—being lost in this shithole so full of life. Not my life. But life. Maybe I’ll find something unexpected. Maybe I’ll meet someone who’ll help me swing my axe through the madness. Or maybe I’ll just figure it out on my own, one wrong turn at a time.

With a slight smile, he takes a step forward, ready to embrace the chaos.

So here I go, New-fuckin’-York. Lead me wherever you will.

The spotlight fades as the speaker walks off stage, blending into the imagined crowd that swallows him whole.

Thanks for reading and being a subscriber.
I’m running a special now — $30 per year.
Your support will help me pay for the Tantra Massage Therapy Training Course (concentration on the Tantra Sexuality Module, Level II) in Chisinau, Moldova.

’til next time.
ak