A Monologue No One Bothered to Hear

My name is Barry Rowen.
Yes that one.
I'm not like the others, no I'm Barry Rowen.
You're thinking ",That guy, he's arrogant. He looks like Harry Potter at forty.
He probably listens to Death Cab and loves the movie 'A Walk to Remember"
No.
I'm better than a man I'm a symbol.
people look at me in the hallways and say; "That man looks like he is on a mission!"
That I am.
Aside from my preoccupation with Mandy Moore's filmography...
I have the same goal as any other man.
I long for a love.
A girl who can hum a good tune, one who can break the hearts of many with the simple appreciation for a yellow sun on a spring day.
Here's the kicker.
I met this girl.
And in real life she was as heavenly as I had dreamed.
The parted hair, genuine kisses, and the hug to bond our bodies together for generations.
For, perhaps if this world did survive to any degree, they would learn to love from our example.
Us, their key to success.
It was lasting, it was weathered.
A year and a half and my life was set.
Sixteen months and on nineteen days.
I had never fathomed such a standing ovation.
In a week that ovation sat down.
We walked of stage.
THERE WAS ANOTHER MAN.
An owl...
no seriously




"Weeks spent in a drunk stuper, by all accounts I am a man," I said
but even I Barry Rowen did not believe that.
I was loose cannon that needed a spark.
I slept in memories
and I was hungry for future
There was a scene to be played out in my mind. I would arrive on the doorstep of my fallen love and her winged lover. I would take him aside and say...

"Leremy, we're both men. At least of the male distinction in both our respective species....
I digress you Bastard! Give me back my woman!"
It was uncontrolled and fueled by Bourbon, but the wake up call had not yet come.
He took his wing and with one swift "Thwack" and an expletive filled "Hoot"
I was on the ground.
A brief glimpse of myself in some broken glass lit by moonlight, I didn't respect myself.
I looked just like him, some redneck in a brown wife-beater.
The blood on my lip sobered me up and I walked away.
I sat in my apartment a good while. I went to a movie I listened to some Death Cab.
I wrote a letter to my friend Anita
Then I took a nap.

In a few months and several hours I had moved on.

I am a Man.