It's so lonely now. It's so lonely. When I wake up in the...View Full Monologue Text
It's so lonely now. It's so lonely. When I wake up in the middle of the night, the silence splits my head almost as much as St. Anthony did. Listen...
It creeps up on you when you're not expecting it, doesn't it? Woooooooo.... Hello? Now I know why Irma never stops talking. In a way it was better before, I mean look at what I've missed in my life... my prom, my sister's wedding, probably the only time in my life when I had any shot at getting a boy to like me. My family will never look at me the same way again. Mom, does God love the crazy ones? Well, I guess she does because Anne made St. Anthony and his host of angels go back to heaven.
Sam tells the audience that she's been cured.
PlayName: School of Jesus Fish
Rating: Contains adult content
Copyright Status: Copyrighted
When I was a little girl, I couldn't sleep until I had touched myself...View Full Monologue Text
When I was a little girl, I couldn't sleep until I had touched myself. I loved it. I loved it so much that I told Mary Osmond how nice it was and then she told her mom how much she loved it and then... my mom was pretty upset to learn that I had started the whole thing, so she dragged me into church-- I'm catholic-- and I remember so clearly that the priest's breath smelled just like sour milk, which is funny because... aren't they supposed to drink wine? "Forgive me father for I have sinned. I touched myself in an un-pure manner." Just like my Mom had told me to say it and then the priest must have thought something was funny because he laughed and asked me how old I was and he told me God loved even though I did sinful things like touch myself in a secret place.
At first, the angels were just like that. I felt so good, having them inside my head with me, it was like I could see right into everyone's souls. It was like... a light of joy and they whispered lovely thoughts into my brain and I thought that I must be the luckiest girl ever to have so many guardian angels. But then the whispers turned to shouts and St. Anthony got louder than all the rest and his whispers were mean and I felt cold and he would shout things that were awful to hear. I know he loves me, but he gets jealous and when he talks, I listen, because, if I don't, he'll scream bloody murder and shatter my brain with his yelling. 'Shut up- you talk too much. You talk too much, whore, and no one's listening.'
No one's listening.
Sam talks about her religious history.
AuthorName: Rick Robinson
Age Range: Teen, 20s - Early
Dialects: Standard American