A Letter To Self

Just a little play called...

A Letter To Self

(The stage is pitch black and smoky. It feels cold and almost ominous. Nothing seems to exist on the stage until a lone figure steps into the foreground. The lone figure speaks)

Lone Figure:

Dear Self,
Life is Splendid now! It's beyond marvelous! Miraculous in every nature! Not once has the Plague of Loneliness afflicted me.
(While he says these words, he hugs himself as if to keep himself from freezing in utter coldness. he stands alone in the darkness)

Lone Figure:

Oh! And I found Love! Love and Be Loved in Return as they say in those movies! My heart remains warm... No! It burns with passion!
(While he says these words, he removes a heart from his breast pocket. It was cracked and broken. He squeezes it tighter and it crumbles to a million pieces)

Lone Figure:

So Don't You Dare Worry About Me! I'm as perfect as perfect as perfect as perfect as perfect can be! Haha! Tears shall not flow from these eyes... Ever!
(As he says these words, tears scoured their paths down his ghostly visage. He took out a penknife from his pocket and gently rests its blade on his wrist. He looks up for his last words.)

Lone Figure:

Here, I end my letter to you, Self.

Yours truly,
Me.