Every Day the Same Song

You are sitting in a dim-lit basement as an actor begins to read you a story. Yes, you, and only you. You’re on your own here. All those other figures you perceive listening intently all around you? Figments of your imagination, born out of your longing for company, for someone else to say I’m here too, I hear this too. It’s been so long since you’ve felt a human touch. Your pet snake is a darling, but you question its loyalty. Did you feed it today? You left the house in a hurry. Could it be hungry? As you ponder this, you notice the actor seems mildly peeved at your drifting attention. Actors are such needy creatures. Focus, don’t be rude. The actor pauses expectantly, seeming to wait for some kind of sign from you.

How do you respond? 

A) You nod encouragingly.

B) You nod dismissively.

C) You nod neutrally. 

The actor nods back. They resume reading faster now, as if in a hurry to reach the end. What is the story about, anyway? There is no sense of structure, or is that because you weren’t paying attention? Was there something said about Anastasia? Who’s Anastasia? Or was that I wanna tase ya? Are you in danger? You hope you didn’t pay a ticket to be harassed and humiliated. That’s not your flavour of immersion. You look into the thespian’s eyes, searching for meaning. Interminable minutes pass and you come up empty-handed and more than a little bored. This was not worth the hype. 

You look to the exit, weighing your options:

A) You could just get up and head out, social etiquette be damned. 

B) You could wait this out, daydreaming about lasagna.

C) You could have another drink, and another, until it all makes sense.

You could, but you don’t, because at this precise point the power cuts out and the door slams shut. It’s pitch black and dead silent. You can’t even see your own hand that you wave in front of your face. There’s something about this new sudden state of being that feels unreal and familiar at the same time. Unreal because how often have you found yourself in such total uninterrupted absence of sight and sound? Familiar because it’s a reversion to the first principles of survival, when every rustle or flicker could mean an abrupt violent death. This is different to the restless stillness in the middle of the night. It’s a carnivorous type of quiet. Something big is about to happen. 

You turn to the stage and clear your throat to say:

A) “Are you ok? Has this happened before?”

B) “This isn’t funny. You better believe I’m asking for a refund.”

C) “Finally. Kiss me now.”

Your voice is drowned in blinding lights and piercing sirens that flood and scramble your senses. You blink in stupefaction, feeling like a cornered beast. You are beleaguered by distorted images from your childhood, each more distressing than the last, until they feel like someone else’s sadistic showreel. You manage to snap out of the maelstrom of memories only to be confronted with blurry shapes bearing down on you from all sides, clicking and chittering in unison. It’s time to act!

Choose your defence mechanism:

A) Fight.

B) Flee.

C) Freeze.

Resistance is futile. Before you know it, they have pinned and strapped you to a cold surface. You’re moving fast, wheeled though a series of unremarkable hallways until you’re brought into a room with a floor-to-ceiling window. You can see your reflection. You’ve looked better. You can also have a closer look through it at some of your captors. They are leaning forward, ready to speak. 

What do you think they are?

A) Kafkaesque insectoids.

B) Spielberg-esque extraterrestrials.

C) Scooby-Doo-esque humans in monster suits.

Whatever their nature, their speech is booming, seeming to emanate from the inside of your head more than the room itself. “You called upon us in your hour of need. We know you. We have been listening for the longest time and here you are, at last. We are willing to provide. We have the answers. We hold the keys. Your long-harboured longing can now be met. All you have to do is lend voice to your cravings. Let them be shameful no more. There is no judgement here, only release. Speak your truth.”

What do you have to say for yourself?

A) Speak your truth.

B) Lie your heart out.

C) This is so cringe. Hold your tongue.

Their response is a bout of derisive laughter. Your straps are undone and you’re on your feet, scrambling to move away from their mockery. “Stop it”, you scream, “leave me alone!”. You try the door and it’s unlocked. You break into a bone-shattering sprint, footsteps echoing on hard tiles. You’re exhausted and frenetic. Your skin is stretched thin and your temples are throbbing. As you titter on the edge of obliterating panic, you come upon a set of two doors. 

What is it that compels you to take the door on the left?

A) Brain patterns rapidly firing adrenaline into your bloodstream.

B) The ineffable wisdom of your eternal soul. 

C) We might never know, so stop asking.

As it happens, the door on the left leads to a deep, dark hole. You fall face-first into something soft and disturbingly sticky. Unfortunately, the torches lining the walls illuminate this scene more than you’d like right now, because you can see all too clearly that you have landed on top of a mound of bloodied rotting remains. The stench is overbearing. “Oh, fuck off”, you sigh. Behind you something stirs and growls and lifts itself to its full height. You slowly turn to face its many-limbed misshapen majesty. 

How do you address the presence before you?

A) Pee yourself.

B) Pee yourself. 

C) Pee yourself.  

You are more thankful than ever that yours is far from the only smell in the chamber. Its putrid breath makes your eyes water. You wait for the pain that is sure to come as you are torn limb from limb and tossed aside. Instead, you look up to see a wide, jagged-toothed smile. It wraps its multitude of claws around you and lifts you up into a cradling embrace. Its delicate drips of drool cleanse you from your fear. Shhh, it hisses, lulling you into lethargy. This wouldn’t be such a bad way to go, you think as you sink into unconsciousness. You are back inside the womb, secure, serene and well fed, warm in amniotic elation. 

What are you dreaming of?

A) A better world.

B) Those who are no longer with us.

C) Nothing. Oblivion is beautiful.

You’d sleep forever were it not for the growing ripples of cacophonous clapping slicing through your blissful suspension. You are forcefully dragged out to drop with a resounding crash to the floor. You pick yourself up in great effort to observe the audience lost in a rapturous standing ovation. You are shivering and drenched in sweat, barely standing.

How do you reward the audience's enthusiasm?

A) Bow and twirl gracefully.

B) Curl up in a corner with your back to everyone, crying and rocking back and forth.

C) Adopt the time-honoured deer-in-headlights look. 

They're loving it. You step off the stage, needing some time to calm and congratulate yourself for making it through. The excited chatter dies down giving way to curious whispers. Your ears stop ringing. Your fists become unclenched. Your gaze locks onto the spot where your table is ready. Your feet take you there. Your body collapses in your seat. The lights are fading once more. Your attention is turned towards the host as they introduce the upcoming act. You are sitting in a dim-lit basement as an actor begins to read you a story. Yes, you, and only you.

24 Ways to Leave your Lover

 1. Locate a dictionary. Open the dictionary. Flip the pages to the word “leave”. Follow instructions carefully.  

2. Enter a room and sit comfortably. Raise your hands in front of your face, palms up facing inwards. Cover both eyes fully. No peeking. When you hear your lover enter the room, maintain this posture and refrain from replying to your lover’s queries. You may sing a lullaby to yourself, provided you are familiar with one. If no lullaby comes to mind, you may sing the looping lyrics of your current earworm. In the unlikely scenario that no earworm is available, hum tirelessly and tunelessly. When your lover leaves the room, you have left your lover.  

3. Lead your lover to a maze of thorns. Thorns optional; maze mandatory. A hedge maze will do. Other types are also available. Accompany your lover to the heart of the maze. You will know you are at the heart of the maze because there will be a fountain with a sculpture of three dolphins smiling sinisterly. If there is no such fountain, the maze is fake. Exit immediately. When you are at the heart of a real maze, sit at the fountain and reminisce about the good times. If no good times have been experienced, converse about the weather instead. When you are certain that your lover has been lured into a false sense of comfort, pretend to receive a phone call from an old friend requesting immediate assistance. Whether or not you have friends is a moot point: you are pretending. Leave the maze before your lover has had a chance to protest, abandoning them to a short life of pitiful perambulations.  

4. Join the circus. Become a lion tamer. Die in a tragic preventable accident involving your favourite lion, Scrabby Tabby.  

5. Join the army. Make sure that you are stationed at the farthest point from your lover. If that farthest point is Australia, adopt a quokka, known as the world’s happiest animal because it always looks like it’s smiling. If the farthest point is anywhere else, your choice of pet is up to you. Allow enough time to elapse for you to turn into a fuzzy afterthought for your lover. Never return.  

6. Challenge your lover to a duel. You may determine the exact nature of the engagement, from wordplay to swordplay to pistols at dawn. Rob your lover of their dignity with a series of showy standoffs until they depart in a blind rage. Alternatively, if you lack the skills to do so, allow your lover to humiliate you instead until they’ve lost all interest in you as a sexual being. In any case, do not kill your lover.  We do not advocate murder here. Death by accident, abandonment or neglect is fine (see other entries).  

7. Promise your lover the stars and moon on a plate. The general unfeasibility of your goal will inevitably lead to relationship-dissolving disappointment.  

8. Promise your lover the world. The abstract and nebulous nature of your deliverables will inevitably lead to relationship-dissolving disappointment. 

9. Sing-shout at your lover that you will show them a new, fantastic point of view and jump on a carpet. This must be a normal carpet. Under no circumstances should the carpet possess the quality of levitation. When the carpet remains static, admit defeat and dance away.   

10. Convince your lover to sit opposite you on a seesaw in joyful recollection of your childhood. Laugh merrily as you ascend and descend a few times until you build the momentum needed to launch your lover into the stratosphere. This works, trust us. They’ll be fine up there; just a little lonely.  

11. Convince your lover to join you on a roundabout in joyful recollection of your childhood. Spin frantically until the roundabout’s foundations are untethered, then jump off as it flies into the exosphere taking your lover with it. As with the previous entry, this method has been rigorously tested. The lover’s safety, however, is not guaranteed. Out of sight, out of mind.  

12. Replace yourself with a human-shaped bundle of stale baguettes.  

13. Replace yourself with an astronaut’s suit filled with fresh manure.  

14. Replace yourself with a full-length mirror that has a smile and come-hither eyes drawn on it with a purple shade of lipstick.  

15. Take a walk in the park with your lover during the height of the pastel-coloured phantasmagoria of autumn, when leaves crunch underfoot and the scent of cinnamon tickles your nostrils. Find the strongest gust of wind and act powerless against it as it carries you far from your puzzled lover. If your lover somehow traces your whereabouts, bide your time until the following autumn and repeat.  

16. Demand of your lover with a glint in your eye: “So where do you think they filmed the moon landings?” 

17. Take your lover to a magic show and volunteer when the magician calls for a fabulous assistant. Should a fabulous assistant already be present, first find a way to remove them from the premises then take full advantage of the renewed demand for fabulous assistants. When the magician contrives to saw you in half, scream as if you have been truly damaged until a team of paramedics are called upon to collect you. Once in the emergency department, become a doctor and spend your life in service to others.  

18. During a shared meal with your lover, noisily eat an apple or slurp some soup. Repeat this step for up to five years. Misophonia is very common. If your lover remains somehow unperturbed by your repulsive eating habits, throw your food at them as a distraction and duck under the table. They will soon stop looking for you.  

19. Maintain steady eye contact with your lover and proclaim in the most earnest tone you can muster: “Barbara, I am leaving you and I am taking the air fryer, the dishwasher, and the kids.” Walk out the door. Don’t concern yourself with your lover’s actual name or how closely your proclamation reflects your general circumstances. The important part is to be earnest.  

20. Run! Don’t look behind you. Keep running. Are you wheezing like a busted bagpipe already? How can you be so out of shape? Don’t stop, faster! I said don’t look! Any minute now, keep at it. Well done. Your lover has given up.   

21. Hide! That closet looks inviting, doesn’t it? Unfortunately, it’s filled with old clothes and there’s no space for you. Don’t be silly, stop opening those drawers. How would you fit in there?  What about under the bed? Yes, I know it’s extremely dusty. See, now you remember that cleanliness is next to godliness. More importantly for our present purposes, cleanliness is also next to hideliness. Do not argue: if godliness is a word, then so is hideliness. Find a vacuum cleaner. Vacuum the dust. Your lover will be back soon; I can hear their footsteps on your street. The floor’s clean, crawl on your belly, go. They’re at the front door. Hold your breath. Cover your mouth with your hands if you must. They are coming up the stairs. They are inside the room, pacing impatiently. They are standing so close to you that you can see the scuff marks on their shoes. This moment feels like it will stretch forever until they’re finally gone. Breathe a long and well-earned sigh of relief. Your lover is not coming back. 

22. Should you find yourself alone and lost in whispering woods with nothing but a feeble torch to light your way, congratulations! You have left your lover.   

23. Explain to your lover that love is a fickle concept lacking coherence and clarity, that the self is an illusion, that free will is a bedtime story, and that there is nothing but a random assortment of particles colliding in unpredictable and inscrutable patterns. Observe the dawning realisation collapse your lover’s features into a grim mask of abject agony. Mirror your lover’s expression as you both fall to your knees, tear at your faces and wail at the careless cosmic chaos. Make a plan to have coffee next Tuesday and never follow through.  

24. Just leave your lover. How hard can it be? 

Liars' League performance