Tragedy/Comedy

I don’t have some professor’s syllabus here. Vaguely I recall that plays ought to be categorized in either, but maybe that’s completely wrong.

But of my own observations it makes sense why the masters write comedies or tragedies. I think it shows a complete intuitive sensing: it shows you can bend your audience simply. Probably a satisfaction to be had in that.

I always find it a little bothersome how difficult it is to do either. Maybe it requires honesty, though maybe honesty requires breaking people.

Besides, there’s a thousand catalogues of media to choose from. I won’t bother to learn the tricks that pull a tear. We both know there’s enough from real life, or something waiting for a selection.

Honesty as a quality requires some consistency, too. It can be real easy to say yes one day and no the next. Easy to doubt what you said five minutes prior.

Sometimes it seems as though all words are deprecated, even if they aren’t. Though don’t we all know the jig is up? Most of the stories are waiting for union and synthesis. Dissolution of all the baggage.

Even if biological and game theory realities tell you how it has to stay this way.

The other day I dug through my ancestors’ things. We have a few books, jottings there, pledges to quit some alcoholism.

I think when you hold it in your hands you feel the gravity; you also wonder how many strands of genes sustained a link through generations: are we only 10% connected? You also wonder why you can’t congregate anymore with the same history. You begin to wonder why you have to hold onto all this hidden history and still merge into the zeitgeist.

They shaped my emotions, they shaped these circumstances; though truth be told most of the living interactions felt as though it didn’t matter if I lived any longer. I wonder if you know what it feels like to be pawned off.

One of the first nightmares I had was being driven to a wide expanse of a parking lot. All fog, and I’m holding the hands of my guardians while another car pulls up. And they hand me over, or it was an exchange.

I still look toward comedies and tragedies because secretly I could hope there’s something I could joke about while masking still.

Maybe I already break people just by saying anything at all: may as well say what comes first to mind. But I’m too used to rewriting messages at least ten times until I feel right with it.