On why Glass menagerie is a memory play

Excepts from theatre Journal.

September 2003

I told Ariel i could sympathize with alcoholics and that i am improving. Because instead of keeping everything inside of me, i can at least say that i need a drink. I have been saying that for a good two weeks now.

Bank statement went into the negative. I need a glass of alcohol. Roommate left crumbs all over again. I need a drink. He will never love me, she fishes for compliments. I need a glass of hard liquor. Time is passing, i havent worked on the lament, im behind in homework, i want to see my friends, i hate my apartment. I need a goddamn shot of vodka. Im gaining weight, i Lost a list, and he is stuck in my head, in unexpected times i remember daniel’s touch, i really need a drink.

At least im not saying i want to die. Im trying to deal. To externalize, be in the moment, own it.

Today was a bad morning, i woke up angry and pretended the twang in my coffee was soothing alcohol and even though my reality was deception of mind, i felt better and maybe that is why the Glass Menagerie is a memory play.

When i die and people find my words worth living, they will read this. Im a junior at Wheaton. Im 19, never been in love. Im not pure and i struggle to love people. i dont have grace and ill probably live in the ghetto of heaven for my failed humanity.

I really need a fucking drink.

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